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The Spirit Wooed by Philip Larkin
Once I believed in you,And then you came,Unquestionably new, as fameHad said you were. But that was long ago.
You launched no argument,Yet I obeyed,Straightaway, the instrument you playedDistant Down sidestreets, keeping different time,
And never questioned whatYou fascinateIn me; if good or not, the stateYou pressed towards. There was no need to know.
Grave pristine absolutesWalked in my mind:So that I was not mute, or blind,As years before or since. My only crime
Was holding you too dear.Was that the causeYou daily came less near—a pauseLonger than life, if you decide it so? 1/2 1 2 下一页 尾页
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