Explore "Sigh No More" by D.H. Lawrence on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
THE cuckoo and the coo-dove's ceaseless calling, calling, / Of a meaningless monotony is palling / All my morning's pleasure in the sun-fleck-scattered wood. / May-blossom and blue bird's-eye flowers falling, falling / In a litter through the elm-tree shade are scrawling / Messages of true-love down the dust of the highroad. / I do not like to hear the gentle grieving, grieving / Of the she-dove in the blossom, still believing / Love will yet again return to her and make all good.
When I know that there must ever be deceiving, deceiving / Of the mournful constant heart, that while she's weaving / Her woes, her lover woos and sings within another wood.
Oh, boisterous the cuckoo shouts, forestalling, stalling / A progress down the intricate enthralling / By-paths where the wanton-headed flowers doff their hood.
And like a laughter leads me onward, heaving, heaving / A sigh among the shadows, thus retrieving / A decent short regret for that which once was very good.