The darkness drops again and now I knowThat twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle.
Follow poet follow rightTo the bottom of the nightWith your unconstraining voiceStill persuade us to rejoice
Certainty, fidelityOn the stroke of midnight passLike vibrations of a bell, And fashionable madmen raise their pedantic boring cry
But for hiim it was not an important failure; the sun shoneAs it had to on the white legs disappearing into the greenWater; and the expensive delicate ship that must have seenSomething amazing, a boy falling out the skyHad somewhere to get to and sailed on clamly.
The glacier knock in the cupboardthe desert sighs in the bedand the crack in the tea-cup opensa lane to the land of the dead.
At the door Mr.Simes tells me he'll see me next week and I answer straight out, "I won't be here next week because I want a job and I won't get one in this place."
Man hands on misery to manIt deepens like a coastal shelfGet out as early as you canand dont have kids yourself
To happiness endlessly I wonder ifanyone looked at me forty years backand though That'll be the lifeNo god any more or sweating in the dark
So life was never better than in 1963 (though just too late for me)-between the end of the chatterly banand the beatles first lp