The view is fine from fifty, <br /> Experienced climbers say; <br />So, overweight and shifty, <br /> I turn to face the way <br /> That led me to this day. <br /> <br />Instead of fields and snowcaps <br /> And flowered lanes that twist, <br />The track breaks at my toe-caps <br /> And drops away in mist. <br /> The view does not exist. <br /> <br />Where has it gone, the lifetime? <br /> Search me. What’s left is drear. <br />Unchilded and unwifed, I’m <br /> Able to view that clear: <br /> So final. And so near.<br /><br />Philip Larkin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-view/
