W H Auden

Say this city has ten million souls,
Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes:
Yet there's no place for us, my dear, yet there's no place for us
Once we had a country and we thought it fair,

"O where are you going
" said reader to rider, "That valley is fatal where furnaces burn, Yonder's the midden whose odours will madden, That gap is the grave where the tall return
" "O do you imagine," said ...

They wondered why the fruit had been forbidden:
It taught them nothing new
They hid their pride,
But did not listen much when they were chidden:

Give me a doctor partridge-plump,
Short in the leg and broad in the rump,
An endomorph with gentle
Who'll never make absurd

All are limitory, but each has her ownnuance of damage
The elite can dress and decent themselves, are ambulant with a single stick, adroitto read a book all through, or play the slow movements of easy sonatas
(Yet, perhaps their verycarn...

Sir, no man's enemy, forgiving all But will his negative inversion, be prodigal:
Send to us power and light, a sovereign touch Curing the intolerable neural itch,
The exhaustion of weaning, the liar's quinsy,
And the distortions of ...

Some thirty inches from my
The frontier of my Person goes,
And all the untilled air
Is private pagus or demesne