| D.H. Lawrence (1885–1930). Amores. 1916. |
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| 29. At the Window |
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| THE PINE-TREES bend to listen to the autumn wind as it mutters | |
| Something which sets the black poplars ashake with hysterical laughter; | |
| While slowly the house of day is closing its eastern shutters. | |
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| Further down the valley the clustered tombstones recede, | |
| Winding about their dimness the mist’s grey cerements, after | 5 |
| The street lamps in the darkness have suddenly started to bleed. | |
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| The leaves fly over the window and utter a word as they pass | |
| To the face that leans from the darkness, intent, with two dark-filled eyes | |
| That watch for ever earnestly from behind the window glass. | |
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