El buen vivir

Piano

D.H. Lawrence

Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me;

Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see

A child sitting under the piano, in the boom of the tingling stringsAnd pressing the small, poised feet of a mother who smiles

as she sings.

In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song

Betrays me back till the heart of me weeps to belong

To theold Sunday evenings at home, with winter outside

And hymns in the cozy parlour, the tinkling piano our guide.

So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour

With the great black pianoappassionato. The glamour

Of childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast

Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child

For the past.

Those winter Sundays

By Robert HaydenSundays too my father got up early

And put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,

Then with cracked hands that ached

From labor in the weekday weather made

Banked fires blaze. No one everthanked him.

I´d wake and hear the cold splintering breaking.

When the rooms were warm, he´d call,

And slowly I would rise and dress,

Fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Speakingindifferently to him,

Who had driven out the cold

And polished my good shoes as well.

What did I know, what did I know

Of love´s austere and lonely offices?

Homework page 94.Visualizing.

| |Piano |Those winter Sundays |
|Where does poem take place?|In the authors house. |In the authors house. |
| |“At home” (line 9).|“fearing the chronics angers of that |
| | |house”(line 9). |
|When...