Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, A WINTER'S TALE, by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

A WINTER'S TALE, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Yesterday the fields were only grey with scattered snow
Last Line: Why does she come, when she knows what I have to tell?
Alternate Author Name(s): Lawrence, D. H.


YESTERDAY the fields were only grey with scattered snow,
And now the longest grass-leaves hardly emerge;
Yet her deep footsteps mark the snow, and go
On towards the pines at the hills' white verge.

I cannot see her, since the mist's white scarf
Obscures the dark wood and the dull orange sky;
But she's waiting, I know, impatient and cold, half
Sobs struggling into her frosty sigh.

Why does she come so promptly, when she must know
That she's only the nearer to the inevitable farewell;
The hill is steep, on the snow my steps are slow --
Why does she come, when she knows what I have to tell?






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