BROTHER AND SISTER by D. H. Lawrence: Summary, Meaning & Analysis
A brother and sister are mourning the loss of their mother, and Lawrence uses the image of the moon fading in the night sky to illustrate how grief leaves you exposed and pushes you to continue on.
The poem
THE shorn moon trembling indistinct on her path, Frail as a scar upon the pale blue sky, Draws towards the downward slope; some sorrow hath Worn her down to the quick, so she faintly fares Along her foot-searched way without knowing why She creeps persistent down the sky's long stairs. Some say they see, though I have never seen, The dead moon heaped within the new moon's arms; For surely the fragile, fine young thing had been Too heavily burdened to mount the heavens so. But my heart stands still, as a new, strong dread alarms Me; might a young girl be heaped with such shadow of woe? Since Death from the mother moon has pared us down to the quick, And cast us forth like shorn, thin moons, to travel An uncharted way among the myriad thick Strewn stars of silent people, and luminous litter Of lives which sorrows like mischievous dark mice chavel To nought, diminishing each star's glitter, Since Death has delivered us utterly, naked and white, Since the month of childhood is over, and we stand alone, Since the beloved, faded moon that set us alight Is delivered from us and pays no heed though we moan In sorrow, since we stand in bewilderment, strange And fearful to sally forth down the sky's long range. We may not cry to her still to sustain us here, We may not hold her shadow back from the dark. Oh, let us here forget, let us take the sheer Unknown that lies before us, bearing the ark Of the covenant onwards where she cannot go. Let us rise and leave her now, she will never know.
A brother and sister are mourning the loss of their mother, and Lawrence uses the image of the moon fading in the night sky to illustrate how grief leaves you exposed and pushes you to continue on. The poem follows their path from shock and sadness to the tough choice of letting go and stepping into an uncertain future. It explores how losing a parent severs the ties to childhood and thrusts you into a sudden, daunting sense of freedom.
Line-by-line
THE shorn moon trembling indistinct on her path, / Frail as a scar upon the pale blue sky,
Some say they see, though I have never seen, / The dead moon heaped within the new moon's arms;
Since Death from the mother moon has pared us down to the quick, / And cast us forth like shorn, thin moons, to travel
Since Death has delivered us utterly, naked and white, / Since the month of childhood is over, and we stand alone,
We may not cry to her still to sustain us here, / We may not hold her shadow back from the dark.
Tone & mood
The tone begins mournful and quiet — reminiscent of someone softly speaking in a dark room — before gradually becoming more resolute. There’s genuine tenderness, particularly toward the sister, but Lawrence avoids letting the poem slip into self-pity. By the end, while the grief remains, the voice has found a sense of solemn courage.
Symbols & metaphors
- The shorn moon — The fading moon is like a mother—worn by illness or age, yet still following her path as she diminishes. "Shorn" implies that something has been taken from her, and this word resonates throughout the poem, reflecting the siblings as well.
- The new moon cradling the old — The folk image of the dead moon cradled in the new moon's arms symbolizes the fear that grief might engulf the young and living—especially the worry that the sister could be crushed by the weight of their mother's death.
- The ark of the covenant — The ark, taken from the Hebrew Bible, represents the sacred container that a people in exile once bore. In this context, it symbolizes all that the siblings bring from their shared history — memory, love, and identity — as they step into a new life without their mother.
- Stars as other people's lives — The "myriad thick strewn stars of silent people" transforms the night sky into a gathering of strangers, each leading their own life, each quietly weighed down by sorrow. This imagery makes grief seem like a shared experience instead of a solitary one.
- The sky's long stairs / range — The sky is a path we must walk — downward for the dying moon, forward for the living siblings. It portrays life after loss as a journey without a map, which is precisely how Lawrence puts it: "an uncharted way."
Historical context
Lawrence wrote this poem in the years around the death of his mother Lydia in December 1910, a moment that profoundly impacted his life. He was incredibly close to her, and losing her to cancer left him shattered. He confided to friends that he felt like half of himself had died with her. His early poetry collection *Amores* (1916) is filled with poems exploring this grief, and "Brother and Sister" fits squarely within that theme. The poem also highlights the genuine connection between Lawrence and his sister Ada, who cared for their mother during her final illness. Lawrence uses the moon as a maternal symbol, drawing from a long tradition, but he personalizes it so deeply that the celestial and the domestic intertwine in a uniquely intimate way.
FAQ
It's about Lawrence and his sister Ada coping with the loss of their mother, Lydia Lawrence, who passed away from cancer in 1910. The moon in the poem symbolizes their mother — diminishing, weary, and ultimately absent.
"The quick" is an old term for living flesh — it's the same root as "the quick and the dead." To be pared to the quick means being cut down to your raw, living self, with all protective layers stripped away. Lawrence uses it to illustrate how deeply grief has laid them bare.
The moon has long represented femininity, cycles, and maternal energy in various cultures. Yet, Lawrence also takes a practical approach: the moon follows a consistent path as it wanes and fades, much like his mother’s journey toward death. The siblings are depicted as new moons—thin, pale, and just beginning their own journeys—after the mother moon has disappeared.
In the Bible, the ark of the covenant was the sacred chest that the Israelites carried through the wilderness. It contained their most important relics as they journeyed into an uncertain future. Lawrence uses this symbol to express that moving on after a parent's death isn't abandonment; rather, it's a sacred duty. You take with you what truly matters and continue forward.
It means the mother no longer knows anything. The siblings can leave and live their lives without hurting her or even being aware of it. It's a bittersweet release: the dead don't need your grief, and you're free to move on. It's both sad and liberating.
The poem consists of five stanzas, each with six lines, and features a shifting rhyme scheme—Lawrence doesn't adhere to a strict form like a sonnet. The line lengths vary, and the rhythm is uneven, reflecting the theme: grief doesn’t follow neat, predictable patterns.
"Chavel" is a dialect word that means to gnaw or chew, originating from the English Midlands, which is Lawrence's home region. He uses it to illustrate how sorrows eat away at lives, much like mice gnawing in the dark. This unique, down-to-earth word contrasts with the cosmic imagery, a hallmark of Lawrence's style.
Yes, absolutely. Lawrence's mother played a crucial role in his early life, and her passing in 1910 plunged him into a long stretch of grief and a search for creative meaning. Many poems from this time, including this one, draw directly from that experience. His sister Ada also figures prominently in the poem's emotional landscape, as she cared for their mother in her final days.