Four D. H. Lawrence Songs

Slowly the moon is rising out of the muddy haze,
Divesting herself of her golden shift, and so
Emerging white and exquisite; and I in amaze
See in the sky before me, a woman I did not know
I loved, but there she goes, and her beauty hurts my heart;
I follow her down the night, begging her not to depart.

I heard a little chicken chirp:
My name is Thomas, Thomas Earp,
and I can neither paint nor write,
I can only put other people right.

All people that can write or pain
do tremble under my complain.
For I am a chicken, and I can chirp,
and my name is Thomas, Thomas Earp.

Take off your cloak and your hat
And your shoes, and draw up at my hearth
Where never woman sat.

I have made the fire up bright;
Let us leave the rest in the dark
And sit by firelight.

The wine is warm in the hearth;
The flickers come and go.
I will warm your limbs with kisses
Until they glow.

What pain, to wake and miss you!
To wake with a tightened heart,
And mouth reaching forward to kiss you!

This then at last is the dawn, and the bell
Clanging at the farm! Such bewilderment
Comes with the sight of the room, I cannot tell.

It is raining. Down the half-obscure road
Four labourers pass with their scythes
Dejectedly; -- a huntsman goes by with his load:

A gun, and a bunched-up deer, its four little feet
Clustered dead. -- And this is the dawn
For which I wanted the night to retreat!