“He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest.”
More from W. H. Auden
“Each in the cell of himself is almost convinced of his freedom.”
“The words of a dead man are modified in the guts of the living.”
“A small grove massacred to the last ash, An oak with heart-rot, give away the show: This…”
“A well-kempt forest begs Our Lady's grace; Someone is not disgusted, or at least Is laying…”