The Spirit Wooed
by Philip Larkin
Once I believed in you,
And then you came,
Unquestionably ne, as fame
Had said you ere. But that as long ago.
You launched no argument,
Yet I obeyed,
Straightaay, the instrument you played
Distant Don sidestreets, keeping different time,
And never questioned hat
You fascinate
In me; if good or not, the state
You pressed toards. There as no need to kno.
Grave pristine absolutes
Walked in my mind:
So that I as not mute, or blind,
As years before or since. My only crime
Was holding you too dear.
Was that the cause
You daily came less near—a pause
Longer than life, if you decide it so?
