Home is so sad. It stays as it wa
Shaped in the comfort of the last
As if to win them back. Instead,
Of anyone to please, it withers so
Having no heart to put aside the t

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

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

Once I believed in you,
And then you came,
Unquestionably new, as fame
Had said you were. But that was l
You launched no argument,

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

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

My wife and I have asked a crowd
To come and waste their time and o
You’d care to join us? In a pig’s
Day comes to an end.
The gas fire breathes, the trees a

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

You do not come dramatically, with
That rear up with my life between
And dash me butchered down beside
The horses panicking; nor as a cla
Clearly set out to warn what can b

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