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Excursion

by D. H. Lawrence, 1916

I wonder, can the night go by;
Can this shot arrow of travel fly
Shaft-golden with light, sheer into the sky
    Of a dawned to-morrow,
Without ever sleep delivering us
From each other, or loosing the dolorous
    Unfruitful sorrow!

What is it then that you can see
That at the window endlessly
You watch the red sparks whirl and flee
    And the night look through?
Your presence peering lonelily there
Oppresses me so, I can hardly bear
    To share the train with you.

You hurt my heart-beats' privacy;
I wish I could put you away from me;
I suffocate in this intimacy,
    For all that I love you;
How i have longed for this night in the train,
Yet now every fibre of me cries in pain
    To God to remove you.

But surely my soul's best dream is still
That one night pouring down shall swill
Us away in an utter sleep, until
    We are one, smooth-rounded.
Yet closely bitten in to me
Is this armour of stiff reluctancy
    That keeps me impounded.

So, dear love, when another night
Pours on us, lift your fingers white
And strip me naked, touch me light,
    Light, light all over.
For i ache most earnestly for your touch,
Yet i cannot move, however much
    I would be your lover.

Night after night with a blemish of day
Unblown and unblossomed has withered away;
Come another night, come a new night, say
    Will you pluck me apart?
Will you open the amorous, aching bud
Of my body, and loose the burning flood
    That would leap to you from my heart?

Published in Amores
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