Explore "Cruelty and Love" by D.H. Lawrence on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
What large, dark hands are those at the window / Lifted, grasping the golden light / Which weaves its way through the creeper leaves / To my heart's delight?
Ah, only the leaves! But in the west, / In the west I see a redness come / Over the evening's burning breast -- / -- 'Tis the wound of love goes home!