Reproach / D.H. Lawrence

Had I but known yesterday, 
Helen, you could discharge the ache 
Out of the cloud; 
Had I known yesterday you could take 
The turgid electric ache away, 
Drink it up with your proud 
White body, as lovely white lightning 
Is drunk from an agonised sky by the earth, 
I might have hated you, Helen. 

But since my limbs gushed full of fire, 
Since from out of my blood and bone 
Poured a heavy flame 
To you, earth of my atmosphere, stone 
Of my steel, lovely white flint of desire, 
You have no name. 
Earth of my swaying atmosphere, 
Substance of my inconstant breath, 
I cannot but cleave to you. 

Since you have drunken up the drear 
Painful electric storm, and death 
Is washed from the blue 
Of my eyes, I see you beautiful. 
You are strong and passive and beautiful, 
I come like winds that uncertain hover; 
But you 
Are the earth I hover over.