Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
“Age” is a poem about growing old and the poet’s concern for his legacy. He sees his early years as passing easily, using the simile of “white swaddling” that floats away. But later he feels that life was a game “I tired myself with joining!”. It implies weariness and isolation. The poet’s main con...
My age fallen away like white swaddling
Floats in the middle distance, becomes
An inhabited cloud. I bend closer, discern
A lighted tenement scuttling with voices.
O you tall game I tired myself with joining!
Now I wade through you like knee-level weeds,
And they attend me, dear translucent bergs:
Silence and space. By now so much has flown
From the nest here of my head that I needs must turn
To know what prints I leave, whether of feet,
Or spoor of pads, or a bird’s adept splay.