The Appeal
D. H. Lawrence
1885 to 1930
You, Helen, who see the stars
As mistletoe berries burning in a black tree,
You surely, seeing I am a bowl of kisses,
Should put your mouth to mine and drink of me.
Helen, you let my kisses steam
Wasteful into the night’s black nostrils; drink
Me up I pray; oh you who are Night’s Bacchante,
How can you from my bowl of kisses shrink!
D. H. Lawrence's The Appeal
I am busy working to bring D. H. Lawrence's "The Appeal" to life through some unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you later.
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