Song of a Man Who Has Come Through by D.H. Lawrence

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NOT I, not I, but the wind that blows through me! / A fine wind is blowing the new direction of Time. / If only I let it bear me, carry me, if only it carry / me!

If only I am sensitive, subtle, oh, delicate, a / winged gift!

If only, most lovely of all, I yield myself and am / borrowed

By the fine, fine wind that takes its course through / the chaos of the world

Like a fine, an exquisite chisel, a wedge-blade / inserted;

If only I am keen and hard like the sheer tip of a / wedge

Driven by invisible blows, / The rock will split, we shall come at the wonder, / we shall find the Hesperides.

Oh, for the wonder that bubbles into my soul, / I would be a good fountain, a good well-head, / Would blur no whisper, spoil no expression.

What is the knocking? / What is the knocking at the door in the night? / It is somebody wants to do us harm.

No, no, it is the three strange angels. / Admit them, admit them.

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