Dog-Tired
D. H. Lawrence
1885 to 1930
Track 1
Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. Your goal is to reassemble the original poem as accurately as possible. As you move the lines, you'll see whether your arrangement is correct, helping you explore the poem's flow and meaning. You can also print out the jumbled poem to cut up and reassemble in the classroom. Either way, take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.
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This ache was shed.
Her hand go stealing
Over my face and my hair until
I should like to drop
The hill-brow, and lie in her lap till the green
Are glittering paths
Breathed quiet above me—we could stop
If she would come to me now,
Sky ceased to quiver, and lost its tired sheen.
Before the last mown harebells are dead,
On the hay, with my head on her knee
While that vetch clump yet burns red;
And lie stone still, while she
Into the low sun—if she came to me here!
Into the cool of night—if she came to me now!
Before all the bats have dropped from the bough
Now the sunken swaths
I would gather up the warm hay from
If she would come to me here,
As if I was dead—but feeling
To the sun, and the swallows cut clear
The horses are untackled, the chattering machine
Till the stars came out to see.
I should like to lie still
Is still at last. If she would come,