Once I am sure there’s nothing go
I step inside, letting the door th
Another church: matting, seats, an
And little books; sprawlings of fl
For Sunday, brownish now; some br

The mower stalled, twice; kneeling
A hedgehog jammed up against the b
Killed. It had been in the long g
I had seen it before, and even fed
Now I had mauled its unobtrusive

Obedient daily dress,
You cannot always keep
That unfakable young surface.
You must learn your lines —
Anger, amusement, sleep;

Quarterly, is it, money reproaches
‘Why do you let me lie here wastef
I am all you never had of goods an
You could get them still by writin
So I look at others, what they do

How distant, the departure of youn
Down valleys, or watching
The green shore past the salt—whit
Rising and falling.
Cattlemen, or carpenters, or keen

Slowly the women file to where he
Upright in rimless glasses, silver
Dark suit, white collar. Stewards
Persuade them onwards to his voice
Within whose warm spring rain of l

Side by side, their faces blurred,
The earl and countess lie in stone
Their proper habits vaguely shown
As jointed armour, stiffened pleat
And that faint hint of the absurd—

Lonely in Ireland, since it was n
Strangeness made sense. The salt
Insisting so on difference, made m
Once that was recognised, we were
Their draughty streets, end—on to

Next year we are to bring all the
For lack of money, and it is all r
Places they guarded, or kept order
We want the money for ourselves at
Instead of working. And this is a