deepest and longest of seas,
once outside the gate
what will you do, if you have no ship of the soul?
Oh pity the dead that are dead, but cannot take
the journey, still they moan and beat
against the silvery adamant walls of this our exclusive existence.
They moan and beat, they gnash, they rage
they fall upon the new outcoming souls with rage
and they send arrows of anger, bullets and bombs of frustration
over the adamant walls of this, our by-no-means impregnable existence.
Pity, oh pity the poor dead that are only ousted from life
and crowd there on the grey mud beaches of the margins
gaunt and horrible
waiting, waiting till at last the ancient boatman with the
common barge
shall take them aboard, towards the great goal of oblivion.
Pity the poor gaunt dead that cannot die
into the distance with receding oars
but must roam like outcast dogs on the margins of life,
and think of them, and with the soul’s deep sigh
waft nearer to them the bark of delivery.
But for myself, but for my soul, dear soul
let me build a little ship with oars and food
and little dishes, and all accoutrements
dainty and ready for the departing soul.
And put it between the hands of the trembling soul.
So that when the hour comes, and the last door closes behind him
he shall slip down the shores invisible
between the half-visible hordes
to where the furthest and the longest sea
touches the margins of our life’s existence
with wincing unwilling waves.
And launching there his little ship,
wrapped in the dark-red mantle of the body’s memories
the little, slender soul sits swiftly down, and takes the oars
and draws away, away, away, towards the dark depths
fathomless deep ahead, far, far from the grey shores
that fringe with shadow all this world’s existence.
Over the sea, over the farthest sea
on the longest journey
past the jutting rocks of shadow
past the lurking, octopus arms of agonised memory
past the strange whirlpools of remembered greed
through the dead weed of a life-time’s falsity,
slow, slow my soul, in his little ship
on the most soundless of all seas
taking the longest journey.
Pulling the long oars of a life-time’s courage
drinking the confident water from the little jug
and eating the brave bread of a wholesome knowledge
row, little soul, row on
on the longest journey, towards the greatest goal
Neither straight nor crooked, neither here nor there
but shadows folded on deeper shadows
and deeper, to a core of sheer oblivion
like the convolutions of shadow-shell
or deeper, like the foldings and involvings of a womb.
Drift on, drift on, my soul, towards the most pure
most dark oblivion.
And at the penultimate porches, the dark-red mantle
of the body’s memories slips and is absorbed
into the shell-like, womb-like convoluted shadow.
And round the great final bend of unbroken dark
the skirt of the spirit’s experience has melted away
the oars have gone from the boat, and the little dishes
gone, gone, and the boat dissolves like pearl
as the soul at last slips perfect into the goal, the core
of sheer oblivion and of utter peace,
the womb of silence in the living night.
Ah peace, ah lovely peace, most lovely lapsing
of this my soul into the plasm of peace.
Oh lovely last, last lapse of death, into pure oblivion
at the end of the longest journey
peace, complete peace!
But can it be that also it is procreation?
Oh build your ship of death
oh build it!
Oh, nothing matters but the longest journey.
MS.” B.”
THE SHIP OF DEATH
HAVE you built your ship of death, oh have you?
Oh build your ship of death, for you will need it.
Now in the twilight, sit by the invisible sea
Of peace, and build your little ship
Of death, that will carry the soul
On its last journey, on and on, so still
So beautiful, over the last of seas.
When the day comes, that will come.
Oh think of it in the twilight peacefully!
The last day, and the setting forth
On the longest journey, over the hidden sea
To the last wonder of oblivion.
Oblivion, the last wonder!
When we have trusted ourselves entirely
To the unknown, and are taken up
Out of our little ships of death
Into pure oblivion.
Oh build your ship of death, be building it now
With dim, calm thoughts and quiet hands
Putting its timbers together in the dusk,
Rigging its mast with the silent, invisible sail
That will spread in death to the breeze
Of the kindness of the cosmos, that will waft
The little ship with its soul to the wonder-goal.
Ah, if you want to live in peace on the face of the earth
Then build your ship of death, in readiness
For the longest journey, over the last of seas.
Lawrence’s Typescript.
SONG OF DEATH
SINQ the song of death, oh sing it!
For without the song of death, the song of life
becomes pointless and silly.
Sing then the song of death, and the longest journey
and what the soul carries with him, and what he leaves behind
and how he finds the darkness that enfolds him into utter peace
at last, at last, beyond innumerable seas.
MS.” B.”
GLORY OF DARKNESS
Ink version:
BLUE and dark
Bavarian gentians, tall ones
make a dark blue gloom
in the sunny room
They have added blueness to blueness, until
it is dark: beauty
blue joy of my soul
Bavarian gentians
your dark blue gloom is so noble!
How deep I have gone
dark gentians
since I embarked on your dark blue fringes
how deep, how deep, how happy!
What a journey for my soul
in the dark blue gloom
of gentians here in the sunny room!
Pencil version:
...
it is dark
and the door is open
to the depths
It is so blue, it is so dark
in the dark doorway
and the way is open
to Hades.
Oh, I know.
Persephone has just gone back
down the thickening thickening gloom
of dark blue gentians to Pluto
to her bridegroom in the dark
and all the dead
and all the dark great ones of the underworld
down there, down there
down the blue depths of mountain gentian flowers
cold cold
down the dark blue path
What a dark blue gloom
of gentians here in the sunny room!
MS. “B”.
BAVARIAN GENTIANS
NOT every man has gen
tians in his house
In soft September, at slow, sad Michaelmas.
Bavarian gentians, tall and dark, but dark
Darkening the day-time torch-like with the smoking blueness
of Pluto’s gloom,
Ribbed hellish flowers erect, with their blaze of darkness
spread blue
Blown into points, by the heavy white draught of the day.
Torch-flowers of the blue-smoking darkness, Pluto’s dark blue blaze
Black lamps from the halls of Dio, smoking dark blue
Giving off darkness, blue darkness, upon Demeter’s yellow-pale day
Reach me a gentian, give me a torch!
Let me guide myself with the blue, forked torch of a flower
Down the darker and darker stairs, where blue is darkened on blueness
Down the way Persephone goes, just now, in first-frosted
September
To the sightless realm where darkness is married to dark
And Persephone herself is but a voice, as a bride
A gloom invisible enfolded in the deeper dark
Of the arms of Pluto as he ravishes her once again
And pierces her once more with his passion of the utter dark.
Among the splendour of black-blue torches, shedding fathom —
less darkness on the nuptials.
Give me a flower on a tall stem, and three dark flames,
For I will go to the wedding, and be wedding-guest
At the marriage of the living dark.
MS. “A.”
The Poems
Lawrence’s Ranch in Taos, New Mexico, where he spent his last years
LIST OF POEMS IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER
WEDDING MORN
KISSES IN THE TRAIN
CRUELTY AND LOVE
CHERRY ROBBERS
LILIES IN THE FIRE
COLDNESS IN LOVE
END OF ANOTHER HOME
REMINDER
BEI HENNEF
LIGHTNING
SONG-DAY IN AUTUMN
AWARE
A PANG OF REMINISCENCE
A WHITE BLOSSOM
RED MOON-RISE
RETURN
THE APPEAL
REPULSED
DREAM-CONFUSED
COROT
MORNING WORK
TRANSFORMATIONS
RENASCENCE
DOG-TIRED
MICHAEL-ANGELO
DIALECT POEMS
VIOLETS
WHETHER OR NOT
A COLLIER’S WIFE
THE DRAINED CUP
THE SCHOOLMASTER
A SNOWY DAY IN SCHOOL
THE BEST OF SCHOOL
AFTERNOON IN SCHOOL
TEASE
THE WILD COMMON
STUDY
DISCORD IN CHILDHOOD
VIRGIN YOUTH
MONOLOGUE OF A MOTHER
IN A BOAT
WEEK-NIGHT SERVICE
IRONY
DREAMS OLD AND NASCENT
OLD
DREAMS OLD AND NASCENT
NASCENT
A WINTER’S TALE
EPILOGUE
A BABY RUNNING BAREFOOT
DISCIPLINE
SCENT OF IRISES
THE PROPHET
LAST WORDS TO MIRIAM
MYSTERY
PATIENCE
BALLAD OF ANOTHER OPHELIA
RESTLESSNESS
A BABY ASLEEP AFTER PAIN
ANXIETY
THE PUNISHER
THE END
THE BRIDE
THE VIRGIN MOTHER
AT THE WINDOW
DRUNK
SORROW
DOLOR OF AUTUMN
THE INHERITANCE
SILENCE
LISTENING
BROODING GRIEF
LOTUS HURT BY THE COLD
MALADE
LIAISON
TROTH WITH THE DEAD
DISSOLUTE
SUBMERGENCE
THE ENKINDLED SPRING
REPROACH
THE HANDS OF THE BETROTHED
EXCURSION
PERFIDY
A SPIRITUAL WOMAN
MATING
A LOVE SONG
BROTHER AND SISTER
AFTER MANY DAYS
BLUE
SNAP-DRAGON
A PASSING BELL
IN TROUBLE AND SHAME
ELEGY
GREY EVENING
FIRELIGHT AND NIGHTFALL
THE MYSTIC BLUE
ARGUMENT
MOONRISE
ELEGY
NONENTITY
MARTYR À LA MODE
DON JUAN
THE SEA
HYMN TO PRIAPUS
BALLAD OF A WILFUL WOMAN
FIRST MORNING
AND OH — THAT THE MAN I AM MIGHT CEASE TO BE- —
SHE LOOKS BACK
ON THE BALCONY
FROHNLEICHNAM
IN THE DARK
MUTILATION
HUMILIATION
A YOUNG WIFE
GREEN
RIVER ROSES
GLOIRE DE DIJON
ROSES ON THE BREAKFAST TABLE
I AM LIKE A ROSE
ROSE OF ALL THE WORLD
A YOUTH MOWING
QUITE FORSAKEN
FORSAKEN AND FORLORN
FIREFLIES IN THE CORN
A DOE AT EVENING
SONG OF A MAN WHO IS NOT LOVED
SINNERS
MISERY
SUNDAY AFTERNOON IN ITALY
WINTER DAWN
A BAD BEGINNING
WHY DOES SHE WEEP?
GIORNO DEI MORTI
ALL SOULS
LADY WIFE
BOTH SIDES OF THE MEDAL
LOGGERHEADS
DECEMBER NIGHT
NEW YEAR’S EVE
NEW YEAR’S NIGHT
VALENTINE’S NIGHT
BIRTH NIGHT
RABBIT SNARED IN THE NIGHT
PARADISE RE-ENTERED
SPRING MORNING
WEDLOCK
HISTORY
SONG OF A MAN WHO HAS COME THROUGH
ONE WOMAN TO ALL WOMEN
PEOPLE
STREET LAMPS
SHE SAID AS WELL TO ME
NEW HEAVEN AND EARTH
ELYSIUM
MANIFESTO
AUTUMN RAIN
FROST FLOWERS
CRAVING FOR SPRING
APPREHENSION
COMING AWAKE
FROM A COLLEGE WINDOW
FLAPPER
BIRDCAGE WALK
LETTER FROM TOWN: THE ALMOND TREE
FLAT SUBURBS, S.W., IN THE MORNING
THIEF IN THE NIGHT
LETTER FROM TOWN: ON A GREY EVENING IN MARCH
SUBURBS ON A HAZY DAY
HYDE PARK AT NIGHT, BEFORE THE WAR
GIPSY
TWO-FOLD
UNDER THE OAK
SIGH NO MORE
LOVE STORM
PARLIAMENT HILL IN THE EVENING
PICCADILLY CIRCUS AT NIGHT
TARANTELLA
IN CHURCH
PIANO
EMBANKMENT AT NIGHT, BEFORE THE WAR
PHANTASMAGORIA
NEXT MORNING
PALIMPSEST OF TWILIGHT
EMBANKMENT AT NIGHT, BEFORE THE WAR
WINTER IN THE BOULEVARD
SCHOOL ON THE OUTSKIRTS
SICKNESS
EVERLASTING FLOWERS
THE NORTH COUNTRY
BITTERNESS OF DEATH
SEVEN SEALS
READING A LETTER
TWENTY YEARS AGO
INTIME
TWO WIVES
HEIMWEH
DEBACLE
NARCISSUS
AUTUMN SUNSHINE
ON THAT DAY
GUARDS!
EVOLUTIONS OF SOLDIERS
THE LITTLE TOWN AT EVENING
LAST HOURS
TOWN
<
br /> AFTER THE OPERA
GOING BACK
ON THE MARCH
BOMBARDMENT
WINTER-LULL
THE ATTACK
OBSEQUIAL ODE
SHADES
BREAD UPON THE WATERS.
RUINATION
RONDEAU OF A CONSCIENTIOUS OBJECTOR.
TOMMIES IN THE TRAIN
WAR-BABY
NOSTALGIA
FRUITS
POMEGRANATE
PEACH
MEDLARS AND SORB-APPLES
FIGS
GRAPES
THE REVOLUTIONARY
THE EVENING LAND
PEACE
TREES
CYPRESSES
BARE FIG-TREES
BARE ALMOND-TREES
TROPIC
SOUTHERN NIGHT
FLOWERS
ALMOND BLOSSOM
PURPLE ANEMONES
SICILIAN CYCLAMENS
HIBISCUS AND SALVIA FLOWERS
THE EVANGELISTIC BEASTS
ST MATTHEW
ST MARK
ST LUKE
ST JOHN
CREATURES
THE MOSQUITO
FISH
BAT
MAN AND BAT
REPTILES
SNAKE
BABY TORTOISE
TORTOISE SHELL
TORTOISE FAMILY CONNECTIONS
LUI ET ELLE
TORTOISE GALLANTRY
TORTOISE SHOUT
BIRDS
TURKEY-COCK
HUMMING-BIRD
EAGLE IN NEW MEXICO
THE BLUE JAY
ANIMALS
THE ASS
HE-GOAT
SHE GOAT
ELEPHANT
KANGAROO
BIBBLES
MOUNTAIN LION
THE RED WOLF
GHOSTS
MEN IN NEW MEXICO
AUTUMN AT TAOS
SPIRITS SUMMONED WEST
THE AMERICAN EAGLE
BALLAD OF ANOTHER OPHELIA
ILLICIT
FIREFLIES IN THE CORN
A WOMAN AND HER DEAD HUSBAND
THE MOWERS
SCENT OF IRISES
GREEN
OUR DAY IS OVER
HARK IN THE DUSK!
ELEPHANTS IN THE CIRCUS
ELEPHANTS PLODDING
ON THE DRUM
TWO PERFORMING ELEPHANTS
TWILIGHT
CUPS
BOWLS
YOU
AFTER DARK
DESTINY
TO LET GO OR TO HOLD ON — ?
HOW BEASTLY THE BOURGEOIS IS
WORM EITHER WAY
LEDA
NATURAL COMPLEXION
THE OXFORD VOICE
TO BE SUPERIOR
TRUE DEMOCRACY
SWAN
GIVE US GODS
WON’T IT BE STRANGE — ?
Complete Works of D.H. Lawrence Page 873