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D.H.Lawrence
OhesummerMiriamahefieldsbyHerod’sFarmontheirwayfromthelibraryhome.SoitwasooWilleyFarTherewasayellowglowoverthemowing-grass，andthesorrel-headsburned.Gradually，astheywalkedalongthehighland，thegoldisankdowheredto，ahechillbluecreptupagainsttheglow.
TheycameoutuponthehighroadtoAlfreton，whiwhitebetweenthedarkeherePaulhesitated.Itwastwomileshomeforhim，onemileforwardforMiriaTheybothlookeduptheroadthatraninshadhtuheglowofthesky.Ohehill，Selby，withitsstarkhousesandtheup-prickedheadstocksofthepit，stoodinblaallagainstthesky.
Helookedathis>
“Nineo’clock!”
hesaid.
&ood，lingtheirbooks.
“Thewoodissolovelynow，”
shesaid.“Iwaoseeit.”
Hefollowedherslowlyacrosstheroadtothe>
“TheygrumblesoifI’mlate，”
hesaid.
“Butyou’renotdoinganythingwrong，”
sheaiently.
Hefollowedheracrosstheureiherewasaessinthewood，astofleaves，ofhowilight.Thetwowalkediderfullythere，amohrongofdarktree-trunks.Helookedrou.
&oshowhimawild-rosebushshehaddiscovered.Shekwaswonderful.Aillhehadseehadohersoul.Onlyheakeitherown，immortal.Shewasdissatisfied.
Dewwasalreadyohs.Intheoldoak-woodamistwasrisied，wwhetheroerandoffogoronly-flowerspallidinacloud.
BythetimetheycametothepireesMiriamwasgettingveryeageraense.Herbushmightbegoofindit;aeditsomuch.Almostpassioobewithhimwheoodbeforetheflowers.Theyweregoingtohaveauher—somethingthatthrilledher，somethingholy.Hewaswalkingbesideheriheywereveryher.Shetrembled，aened，vaguelyanxious.
ingtotheedgeofthewood，theysawtheskyinfroher-of-pearl，ahgrowingdark.Somewhereobrahepihehoreami.
“Where?”
heasked.
“Downthemiddlepath，”
shemurmured，quivering.
&urheerofthepathshestoodstill.Iweenthepines，gaziened，shecoulddistinguishnothingforsomemoments;thegreyinglightrobbedthingsoftheircolour.
Thenshesawherbush.
“Ah!”
shecried，hasteningfor>
Itwasverystill.Thetreewastallandstraggling.Ithadthrownitsbriersoverahawthorn-bush，anditslorailedthick，rightdowntothegrass，splashingthedarknesseverywhereiltstars，purewhite.Inbossesofivoryandinlargesplashedstarstherosesgleamedonthedarknessoffoliageandstemsandgrass.PaulandMiriamstoodclosetogether，silent，aafterpoieadyrosesshohem，seemingtokihingintheirsouls.Theduskcamelikesmokearound，andstilldidnotputouttheroses.
PaullookedintoMiriam’seyes.Sheetwithwonder，herlipswereparted，andherdarkeyeslayopentohiHislookseemedtotraveldownintoher.Hersoulquivered.Itwastheued.
&urnedaside，asifpaiothebush.
“Theyseemasiftheywalklikebutterflies，ahemselves，”
hesaid.
Shelookedatherroses.Theywerewhite，someindholy，othersexpandedihetreewasdarkasashadow.Sheliftedherhandimpulsivelytotheflowers;shewentforwardaheminworship.
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