Text of poem - ANTHOLOGY. Of the poems in this book Mine is not first, look! Nor of the best either. I come at the end With verse too stiff to bend To take the full weight Of all that the muse said, Knocking at my gate And on my thick head With no interval But with how firm a fist. My skull is dull, my wrist Suffers a bad sprain; It will not come again, The heart's good weather In which my songs grew tall. R. S. THOMAS

‘Anthology’ - #RSThomas
(The Poetry Society Bulletin, Aug 1958)
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