Restlessness
AT the open door of the room I stand and look atthe night,Hold my hand to catch the raindrops, that slant intosight,Arriving grey from the darkness above suddenly intothe light of the room.I will escape from the hollow room, the box of light,And be out in the bewildering darkness, which isalways fecund, which mightMate my hungry soul with a germ of its womb.
I will go out to the night, as a man goes down to theshoreTo draw his net through the surfs thin line, at thedawn beforeThe sun warms the sea, little, lonely and sad, siftingthe sobbing tide.I will sift the surf that edges the night, with my net,the fourStrands of my eyes and my lips and my hands and myfeet, sifting the storeOf flotsam until my soul is tired or satisfied.
I will catch in my eyes' quick netThe faces of all the women as they go past,Bend over them with my soul, to cherish the wetCheeks and wet hair a moment, saying: "Is ityou?"Looking earnestly under the dark umbrellas, heldfastAgainst the wind; and if, where the lamplightblewIts rainy swill about us, she answered meWith a laugh and a merry wildness that it was sheWho was seeking me, and had found me at last tofreeMe now from the stunting bonds of my chastity,How glad I should be!
Moving along in the mysterious ebb of the nightPass the men whose eyes are shut like anemones in adark pool;Why don't they open with vision and speak to me,what have they in sight?Why do I wander aimless among them, desirousfool?
I can always linger over the huddled books on thestalls,Always gladden my amorous fingers with the touchof their leaves,Always kneel in courtship to the shelves in thedoorways, where fallsThe shadow, always offer myself to one mistress,who always receives.
But oh, it is not enough, it is all no good.There is something I want to feel in my runningblood,Something I want to touch; I must hold my face tothe rain,I must hold my face to the wind, and let it explainMe its life as it hurries in secret.I will trail my hands again through the drenched,cold leavesTill my hands are full of the chillness and touch ofleaves,Till at length they induce me to sleep, and to forget.
Words in this poem
- bewildering a.
- Causing bewilderment or great perplexity; as, bewildering difficulties.
- fecund a.
- Fruitful in children; prolific. Graunt. [L. fecundus, from the root of fetus: cf. F. fécond. see Fetus.]
- womb n.
- The belly; the abdomen. [OE. wombe, wambe, AS. wamb, womb; akin to D. wam belly, OS. & OHG. wamba, G. wamme, wampe, Icel. vömb, Sw. v&mb, Dan. vom, Goth. wamba.]
- sobbing n.
- A series of short, convulsive inspirations, the glottis being suddenly closed so that little or no air enters into the lungs.
- flotsam n.
- Goods lost by shipwreck, and floating on the sea; -- in distinction from jetsam or jetson. Blackstone. [F. flotter to float. See FFlotilla, and cf. Jetsam.]
- lamplight n.
- Light from a lamp.
- swill v. t.
- To wash; to drench. [OE. swilen to wash, AS. swilian.]
- aimless a.
- Without aim or purpose; as, an aimless life.
- gladden v. t.
- To make glad; to cheer; to please; to gratify; to rejoice; to exhilarate. [See Glad, v. t.]
- kneel v. i.
- To bend the knee; to fall or rest on the knees; -- sometimes with down. [OE. knelen, cneolien; akin to D. knielen, Dan. knæle. See Knee.]
- courtship n.
- The act of paying court, with the intent to solicit a favor.
- hurries n.
- A staith or framework from which coal is discharged from cars into vessels.
- chillness n.
- Coolness; coldness; a chill.
- induce v. t.
- To lead in; to introduce. [L. inducere, inductum; pref. in- in + ducere to lead. See Duke, and cf. Induct.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Restlessness 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, Restlessness, in Amores (1916), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #22531, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/lawrence-amores/restlessness.html, id L13564.
Form and metre
Restlessness is 63 lines in 6 stanzas. 91% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.3 syllables. 7 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 57% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
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 -ABABCA-AC at · nightA · intoB · sightA · intoB · roomC · lightA · is · mightA · wombC
- 2 ABAB-C-B-BC theA · shoreB · theA · beforeB · sifting · tideC · net · fourB · my · storeB · satisfiedC
- 3 ABA-C-B-CDDCD-D netA · pastB · wetA · it · youC · held · fastB · lamplight · blewC · meD · sheD · toC · freeD · chastity · beD
- 4 A-B-A-B nightA · a · poolB · me · sightA · desirous · foolB
- 5 AB-CAB-C theA · stallsB · touch · leavesC · theA · fallsB · mistress · receivesC
- 6 A-A-BB--C-C- goodA · running · bloodA · to · rainB · explainB · secret · drenched · leavesC · of · leavesC · forget
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. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| AT the open door of the room I stand and look at | 13 | ··/˘········· |
| the night, | 2 | ·· |
| Hold my hand to catch the raindrops, that slant into | 12 | ······/····· |
| sight, | 1 | · |
| Arriving grey from the darkness above suddenly into | 14 | ˘/˘···/˘··/˘·· |
| the light of the room. | 5 | ····· |
| I will escape from the hollow room, the box of light, | 13 | ··˘/··/˘····· |
| And be out in the bewildering darkness, which is | 12 | ·····˘/˘/˘·· |
| always fecund, which might | 6 | /·/˘·· |
| Mate my hungry soul with a germ of its womb. | 11 | ··/˘······· |
| I will go out to the night, as a man goes down to the | 14 | ·············· |
| shore | 1 | · |
| To draw his net through the surfs thin line, at the | 11 | ··········· |
| dawn before | 3 | ··· |
| The sun warms the sea, little, lonely and sad, sifting | 13 | ·····/˘/˘··/˘ |
| the sobbing tide. | 4 | ·/˘· |
| I will sift the surf that edges the night, with my net, | 13 | ······/˘····· |
| the four | 2 | ·· |
| Strands of my eyes and my lips and my hands and my | 12 | ············ |
| feet, sifting the store | 5 | ·/˘·· |
| Of flotsam until my soul is tired or satisfied. | 13 | ·/˘·····/·/˘· |
| I will catch in my eyes' quick net | 8 | ········ |
| The faces of all the women as they go past, | 12 | ·/˘···/˘···· |
| Bend over them with my soul, to cherish the wet | 11 | ·······/˘·· |
| Cheeks and wet hair a moment, saying: "Is it | 11 | ·····/˘/˘·· |
| you?" | 1 | · |
| Looking earnestly under the dark umbrellas, held | 12 | /˘/˘····˘/˘· |
| fast | 1 | · |
| Against the wind; and if, where the lamplight | 10 | ········/˘ |
| blew | 1 | · |
| Its rainy swill about us, she answered me | 11 | ·/˘·····/˘· |
| With a laugh and a merry wildness that it was she | 13 | ·····/˘/˘···· |
| Who was seeking me, and had found me at last to | 12 | ··/˘········ |
| free | 1 | · |
| Me now from the stunting bonds of my chastity, | 11 | ····/˘···/˘ |
| How glad I should be! | 5 | ····· |
| Moving along in the mysterious ebb of the night | 13 | /˘˘/··˘/˘···· |
| Pass the men whose eyes are shut like anemones in a | 13 | ········/˘··· |
| dark pool; | 2 | ·· |
| Why don't they open with vision and speak to me, | 12 | ···/˘·/˘···· |
| what have they in sight? | 5 | ····· |
| Why do I wander aimless among them, desirous | 13 | ···/˘/˘···˘/˘ |
| fool? | 1 | · |
| I can always linger over the huddled books on the | 13 | ··/·/˘··/˘··· |
| stalls, | 1 | · |
| Always gladden my amorous fingers with the touch | 12 | /·/˘·/˘/˘··· |
| of their leaves, | 3 | ··· |
| Always kneel in courtship to the shelves in the | 11 | /···/······ |
| doorways, where falls | 4 | /··· |
| The shadow, always offer myself to one mistress, | 13 | ·/·/˘/˘·/··/˘ |
| who always receives. | 5 | ·/·˘/ |
| But oh, it is not enough, it is all no good. | 12 | ·····˘/····· |
| There is something I want to feel in my running | 12 | ··/˘······/˘ |
| blood, | 1 | · |
| Something I want to touch; I must hold my face to | 12 | /˘·········· |
| the rain, | 2 | ·· |
| I must hold my face to the wind, and let it explain | 13 | ···········˘/ |
| Me its life as it hurries in secret. | 10 | ·····/˘·/˘ |
| I will trail my hands again through the drenched, | 10 | ·····˘/··· |
| cold leaves | 2 | ·· |
| Till my hands are full of the chillness and touch of | 12 | ·······/˘··· |
| leaves, | 1 | · |
| Till at length they induce me to sleep, and to forget. | 13 | ····˘/·····˘/ |
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.