Always too eager for the future, w
Pick up bad habits of expectancy.
Something is always approaching; e
Till then we say,
Watching from a bluff the tiny, cl

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

Down stucco sidestreets,
Where light is pewter
And afternoon mist
Brings lights on in shops
Above race—guides and rosaries,

Morning, a glass door, flashes
Gold names off the new city,
Whose white shelves and domes trav
The slow sky all day.
I land to stay here;

When I see a couple of kids
And guess he’s fucking her and she
Taking pills or wearing a diaphrag
I know this is paradise
Everyone old has dreamed of all th

After comparing lives with you for
I see how I’ve been losing: all t
I’ve met a different gauge of girl
Grant that, and all the rest makes
My mortification at your pushovers

Waiting for breakfast, while she b
I looked down at the empty hotel y
Once meant for coaches. Cobblesto
But sent no light back to the load
Sunk as it was with mist down to t

About twenty years ago
Two girls came in where I worked—
A bosomy English rose
And her friend in specs I could t
Faces in those days sparked

To step over the low wall that div
Road from concrete walk above the
Brings sharply back something know
The miniature gaiety of seasides.
Everything crowds under the low ho

If hands could free you, heart,
Where would you fly?
Far, beyond every part
Of earth this running sky
Makes desolate? Would you cross