Some have held the Eye to be The instrument of lechery, More furtive than the Hand in low And vicious venery-Not so! Its rape is gentle, never more Violent than a metaphor.

Reason? That dreary shed, that hutch for grubby schoolboys.

So much of adolescence is an ill-defined dying, An intolerable waiting, A longing for another place and time, Another condition.

How terrible the need for God.