Naked on the steep, soft lip

Of the turf I stand watching my own white shadow quivering to and fro …

White on the water wimples my shadow

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And I, what fountain of fire am I among 

This leaping combustion of spring? My spirit is tossed 

About like a shadow buffeted in the throng 

Of flames, a shadow that's gone astray, and is lost.

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“The Wild Common” & “Enkindled Spring” by DH Lawrence

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