By Philip Larkin
If hands could free you, heart,
Where would you fly?
Far, beyond every part
Of earth this running sky
Makes desolate? Would you cross
City and hill and sea,
If hands could set you free?
I would not lift the latch;
For I could run
Through fields, pit-valleys, catch
All beauty under the sun--
Still end in loss:
I should find no bent arm, no bed
To rest my head.
But, I would fly still;
ReplyDeleteUnshackle myself from the chains
Of consoling ignorance,
And soar without a care--
Into the troublesome restlessness
Of true knowledge, to
Embrace the peace of eternal being.