The Poetry of D. H. Lawrence. D. H. Lawrence

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       Come quickly, and vindicate us

       against too much death.

       Come quickly, and stir the rotten globe of the

       world from within,

       burst it with germination, with world anew.

       Come now, to us, your adherents, who cannot

       flower from the ice.

       All the world gleams with the lilies of Death the

       Unconquerable,

       but come, give us our turn.

       Enough of the virgins and lilies, of passionate,

       suffocating perfume of corruption,

       no more narcissus perfume, lily harlots, the blades

       of sensation

       piercing the flesh to blossom of death.

       Have done, have done with this shuddering,

       delicious business

       of thrilling ruin in the flesh, of pungent passion,

       of rare, death-edged ecstasy.

       Give us our turn, give us a chance, let our hour

       strike,

       O soon, soon!