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

Marrying left yor maiden name disu
Its five light sounds no longer me
Your voice, and all your variants
For since you were so thankfully c
By law with someone else, you cann

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

Green-shadowed people sit, or walk
Their children finger the awakened
Calmly a cloud stands, calmly a bi
And, flashing like a dangled-looki
Sun lights the balls that bounce,

Even so distant, I can taste the
Bitter and sharp with stalks, he m
The sun’s occasional print, the br
Worry of wheels along the street o
Where bridal London bows the othe

I thought it would last my time—
The sense that, beyond the town,
There would always be fields and f
Where the village louts could clim
Such trees as were not cut down;

In frames as large as rooms that f
And block the ends of streets with
Screen graves with custard, cover
Of motor—oil and cuts of salmon, s
Perpetually these sharply—pictured

There is an evening coming in
Across the fields, one never seen
That lights no lamps.
Silken it seems at a distance, yet
When it is drawn up over the knees

Those long uneven lines
Standing as patiently
As if they were stretched outside
The Oval or Villa Park,
The crowns of hats, the sun

Tired of a landscape known too wel
The deliberate shallow hills, the
Flying past rocks; tired of rememb
The village children and their nau
He abandoned his small holding and