T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
Last Words to Miriam
By D. H. Lawrence (1885–1930)(From Amores, 1916) YOURS is the shame and sorrow | |
| But the disgrace is mine; | |
| Your love was dark and thorough, | |
| Mine was the love of the sun for a flower | |
| He creates with his shine. | 5 |
| I was diligent to explore you, | |
| Blossom you stalk by stalk, | |
| Till my fire of creation bore you | |
| Shrivelling down in the final dour | |
| Anguish—then I suffered a balk. | 10 |
| I knew your pain, and it broke | |
| My fine, craftsman’s nerve; | |
| Your body quailed at my stroke, | |
| And my courage failed to give you the last | |
| Fine torture you did deserve. | 15 |
| You are shapely, you are adorned, | |
| But opaque and dull in the flesh, | |
| Who, had I but pierced with the thorned | |
| Fire-threshing anguish, were fused and cast | |
| In a lovely illumined mesh. | 20 |
| Like a painted window: the best | |
| Suffering burnt through your flesh, | |
| Undressed it and left it blest | |
| With a quivering sweet wisdom of grace: but now | |
| Who shall take you afresh? | 25 |
| Now who will burn you free | |
| From your body’s terrors and dross, | |
| Since the fire has failed in me? | |
| What man will stoop in your flesh to plough | |
| The shrieking cross? | 30 |
| A mute, nearly beautiful thing | |
| Is your face, that fills me with shame | |
| As I see it hardening, | |
| Warping the perfect image of God, | |
| And darkening my eternal fame. | 35 |