Coming Awake - D H Lawrence

WHEN I woke, the lake-lights were quivering on the
     wall,
The sunshine swam in a shoal across and across,
And a hairy, big bee hung over the primulas
In the window, his body black fur, and the sound
     of him cross.

There was something I ought to remember: and
     yet
I did not remember. Why should I? The run-
     ning lights
And the airy primulas, oblivious
Of the impending bee--they were fair enough
     sights.