D.H.Lawrence

"To me, the earth rolls ponderously, superbly Coming my way without forethought or afterthought. To me, men's footfalls fall with a dull, soft rumble, ominous and lovely, Coming my way. ( "Revolutionary" 40-44) These lines, written by D. H Lawrence, are an excerpt from his life, as was most of his work. Lawrence was in love with the world, with the mystic reality, the language of true inspiration. Born before the turn of the century, Lawrence was the son of a coal-mining father and a middle class mother. One of four, he was always more interested in the arts than playing with the other boys. He didn't begin writing until age twenty but it only took four years until he was published by Ford Maddox Hueffer in the English Review (Malmude 67). His poetic works follow closely in the veins of his own experiences, growing and changing with him. He was obsessed with "mysticism, lore, dark urges and sexuality" (Smart 5136). A brutal objectivity and an almost circular description pattern offer a perfect setting for these obsessions, while strange but vivid