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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  D. H. Lawrence

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

War Baby

D. H. Lawrence

THE CHILD, like a mustard seed,

Rolls out of the husk of death

Into the woman’s fertile, fathomless lap.

Look—it has taken root!

See how it flourisheth!

See how it rises with magical, rosy sap!

As for our faith, it was there

When we did not know, did not care;

It fell from our husk like a little hasty seed.

Sing—it is all we need.

Sing, for the little weed

Will flourish its branches in heaven when we slumber beneath.