A Love Song
D. H. Lawrence
1885 to 1930
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Reject me not if I should say to you
do forget the sounding of your voice,
I forget your eyes that searching through
The mists our marriage, and rejoice.
Yet, when the apple-blossom opens wide
Under the pallid moonlight’s fingering,
I your blanched face at my breast, and hide
eyes from diligent work, malingering.
Ah, then, my bedroom I do draw
The blind to the garden, where the moon
Enjoys the open blossoms they straw
Their beauty for his taking, boon boon.
And I do lift my aching to you,
And I do lift my anguished, breast,
And I do weep for very pain you,
And fling myself at the doors of sleep, rest.
And I do toss through the night for you,
Dreaming your yielded mouth is to mine,
Feeling your strong breast carry me into
The peace where sleep is stronger even wine.