English poetry

British Poets Х Biographies Х Poems About Х Random Poem Х
The Rating of Poets Х The Rating of Poems

Poem by David Herbert Lawrence


Piano


Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me;
Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see
A child sitting under the piano, in the boom of the tingling strings
And pressing the small, poised feet of a mother who smiles as she sings.

In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song
Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong
To the old Sunday evenings at home, with winter outside
And hymns in the cosy parlour, the tinkling piano our guide.

So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour
With the great black piano appassionato. The glamour
Of childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast
Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the past. 



David Herbert Lawrence


David Herbert Lawrence's other poems:
  1. Discipline
  2. The Mosquito
  3. Bat
  4. Meeting among the Mountains
  5. Service of all the Dead


Poem to print To Print Poem

1219 Views



The Last Poems


To Russian version


–ейтинг@Mail.ru

English Poetry. E-mail eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru