What do they think has happened, the old fools, To make them like this? Do they somehow suppose It’s more grown-up when…

Sexual intercourse began In nineteen sixty-three (which was rather late for me) – Between the end of the Chatterley ban And the…

She kept her songs, they kept so little space, The covers pleased her: One bleached from lying in a sunny place, One…

My wife and I have asked a crowd of craps To come and waste their time and ours: perhaps You’d care to…

I went out alone To sing a song or two, My fancy on a man, And you know who. Another came in…

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

O’Driscoll drove with a song The wild duck and the drake From the tall and the tufted reeds Of the drear Hart…

I Swear by what the sages spoke Round the Mareotic Lake That the Witch of Atlas knew, Spoke and set the cocks…

Why should not old men be mad? Some have known a likely lad That had a sound fly-fisher’s wrist Turn to a…

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

I thought no more was needed Youth to prolong Than dumb-bell and foil To keep the body young. O who could have…

If any man drew near When I was young, I thought, “He holds her dear,” And shook with hate and fear. But…