The Best of School by D.H. Lawrence

The blinds are drawn because of the sun, / And the boys and the room in a colourless gloom / Of under-water float: bright ripples run / Across the walls as the blinds are blown / To let the sunlight in; and I, / As I sit on the beach of the class alone, / Watch the boys in their summer blouses, / As they write, their round heads busily bowed: / And one after another rouses / And lifts his face and looks at me, / And my eyes meet his very quietly, / Then he turns again to his work, with glee.

With glee he turns, with a little glad / Ecstasy of work he turns from me, / An ecstasy surely sweet to be had. / And very sweet while the sunlight waves / In the fresh of the morning, it is to be / A teacher of these young boys, my slaves / Only as swallows are slaves to the eaves / They build upon, as mice are slaves / To the man who threshes and sows the sheaves.