For Andrews Wanning

	So there stood Matthew Arnold and this girl
	With the cliffs of England crumbling away behind them,
	And he said to her “Try to be true to me,
4	And I’ll do the same for you, for things are bad
	All over, etc., etc.”
	Well now, I knew this girl. It’s true she had read
	Sophocles in a fairly good translation
8	And caught that bitter allusion to the sea,
	But all the time he was talking she had in mind
	The notion of what his whiskers would feel like
	On the back of her neck. She told me later on
12	That after a while she got to looking out
	At lights across the channel, and really felt sad,
	Thinking of all the wine and enormous beds
	And blandishments in French and the perfumes.
16	And then she got really angry. To have been brought
	All the way down from London, and then be addressed
	As a sort of mournful cosmic last resort
	Is really tough on a girl, and she was pretty.
20	Anyway, she watched him pace the room
	And finger his watch-chain and seem to sweat a bit,
	And then she said one or two unprintable things.
	But you mustn’t judge her by that. What I mean to say is,
24	She’s really all right. I still see her once in a while
	And she always treats me right. We have a drink
	And I give her a good time, and perhaps it’s a year
	Before I see her again, but there she is,
28	Running to fat, but dependable as they come.
	And sometimes I bring her a bottle of Nuit d’ Amour.