Lotus Hurt by the Cold
How many times, like lotus lilies risenUpon the surface of a river, thereHave risen floating on my blood the rareSoft glimmers of my hope escaped from prison.
So I am clothed all over with the lightAnd sensitive beautiful blossoming of passion;Till naked for her in the finest fashionThe flowers of all my mud swim into sight.
And then I offer all myself untoThis woman who likes to love me: but she turnsA look of hate upon the flower that burnsTo break and pour her out its precious dew.
And slowly all the blossom shuts in pain,And all the lotus buds of love sink overTo die unopened: when my moon-faced lover,Kind on the weight of suffering, smiles again.
About this text
Lotus Hurt by the Cold is in the public domain. This text is taken from Amores: Poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #22531; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: D. H. Lawrence, Lotus Hurt by the Cold, in Amores (1916), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #22531, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/lawrence-amores/lotus-hurt-by-the-cold.html, id L13578.
Form and metre
Lotus Hurt by the Cold is 16 lines in 4 stanzas of 4 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABBA, complete in 2 of its 4 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 87%). 99% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.4 syllables. 5 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 56% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic pentameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 ABBA risenA · thereB · rareB · prisonA
- 2 ABBA lightA · passionB · fashionB · sightA
- 3 -AA- unto · turnsA · burnsA · dew
- 4 A--A painA · over · lover · againA
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| How many times, like lotus lilies risen | 11 | ·/˘··/˘/˘/˘ |
| Upon the surface of a river, there | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Have risen floating on my blood the rare | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| Soft glimmers of my hope escaped from prison. | 11 | ·/˘···˘/·/˘ |
| So I am clothed all over with the light | 10 | ·········· |
| And sensitive beautiful blossoming of passion; | 11 | ·/˘/˘/˘˘·/˘ |
| Till naked for her in the finest fashion | 11 | ·/˘····/˘/˘ |
| The flowers of all my mud swim into sight. | 10 | ·/········ |
| And then I offer all myself unto | 10 | ···/˘··/·· |
| This woman who likes to love me: but she turns | 11 | ·/˘········ |
| A look of hate upon the flower that burns | 10 | ·······/·· |
| To break and pour her out its precious dew. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| And slowly all the blossom shuts in pain, | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| And all the lotus buds of love sink over | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| To die unopened: when my moon-faced lover, | 11 | ··˘/˘····/˘ |
| Kind on the weight of suffering, smiles again. | 10 | ·····/˘·˘/ |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.