In June we picked the clover, And sea-shells in July:There was no silence at the door, No word from the sky. A hand came out of AugustAnd flicked his life away: We had not time to bargain, mope, Moralize, or pray.

Cecil DayLewis
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More Quotes By Cecil DayLewis
  1. A way of using words to say things which could not possibly be said in any other way, things which in a sense do not exist till they are born … in poetry.
  2. And yet this self, contains Tides, continents and stars―a myriad selves, Is small and solitary as one grass-blade Passed over by the wind Amongst a myriad grasses on the prairie.
  3. First, I do not sit down at my desk to put into verse something that is already clear in my mind. If it were clear in my mind, I should have no incentive or need to write about it. We do not write in order...
  4. It is eighteen years ago, almost to the day- A sunny day with the leaves just turning, The touch-lines new-ruled - since I watched you play Your first game of fotball, then, like a satellite Wrenched from its orbit, go drifting away Behind a scatter...
  5. See this abdicated beast, once king Of them all, nibble his claws: Not anger enough left–no, nor despair– To break his teeth on the bars.
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