Next Morning
How have I wandered here to this vaulted room In the house of life? - the floor was ruffled with gold Last evening, and she who was softly in bloom, Glimmered as flowers that in perfume at twilight unfold For the flush of the night; whereas now the gloom Of every dirty, must-besprinkled mould, And damp old web of misery's heirloom Deadens this day's grey-dropping arras-fold. And what is this that floats on the undermist Of the mirror towards the dusty grate, as if feeling Unsightly its way to the warmth? - this thing with a list To the left? this ghost like a candle swealing? Pale-blurred, with two round black drops, as if it missed Itself among everything else, here hungrily stealing Upon me! - my own reflection! - explicit gist Of my presence there in the mirror that leans from the ceiling! Then will somebody square this shade with the being I know I was last night, when my soul rang clear as a bell And happy as rain in summer? Why should it be so? What is there gone against me, why am I in hell?
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About this line
"How have I wandered here to this vaulted room..."
This evocative piece by D. H. Lawrence (David Herbert Richards), titled "Next Morning", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...