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D.H. Lawrence (1885–1930). Amores. 1916.

9. Irony

ALWAYS, sweetheart,

Carry into your room the blossoming boughs of cherry,

Almond and apple and pear diffuse with light, that very

Soon strews itself on the floor; and keep the radiance of spring

Fresh quivering; keep the sunny-swift March-days waiting

In a little throng at your door, and admit the one who is plaiting

Her hair for womanhood, and play awhile with her, then bid her depart.

A come and go of March-day loves

Through the flower-vine, trailing screen;

A fluttering in of doves.

Then a launch abroad of shrinking doves

Over the waste where no hope is seen

Of open hands:

Dance in and out

Small-bosomed girls of the spring of love,

With a bubble of laughter, and shrilly shout

Of mirth; then the dripping of tears on your glove.