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A poem by D. H. Lawrence |
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Piccadilly Circus At Night: Street-Walkers |
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Title: Piccadilly Circus At Night: Street-Walkers Author: D. H. Lawrence [More Titles by Lawrence] WHEN into the night the yellow light is roused like dust above the towns, Our faces flower for a little hour pale and uncertain along the street, The luminous mist which the poor things wist was dawn arriving across the sky, All the birds are folded in a silent ball of sleep, Wanton sparrows that twittered when morning looked in at their eyes [The end] GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |