A sudden blow: the great wings beating still Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed By the dark webs, her nape caught…

That is no country for old men. The young In one another’s arms, birds in the trees – Those dying generations –…

I have met them at close of day Coming with vivid faces From counter or desk among grey Eighteenth-century houses. I have…

I, too, dislike it: there are things that are important beyond all this fiddle. Reading it, however, with a perfect contempt for…