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Abstract

It seems when we hear a skylark singing as if sound were running forward into the future, running so fast and utterly without consideration, straight on into futurity. And when we hear a nightingale, we hear the pause and the rich, piercing rhythm of recollection, the perfect past. The lark may sound sad, but with the lovely lapsing sadness that is almost a swoon of hope. The nightingale’s triumph is a paean, but a death-paean.

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© 1990 A. Banerjee

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Banerjee, A. (1990). Poetry of the Present. In: Banerjee, A. (eds) D. H. Lawrence’s Poetry: Demon Liberated. Palgrave Macmillan, London. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-349-11067-4_7

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