An old master yourself now, Auden,
like that much admired Cavafy and those
older still, in this you were wrong.
People
are not indifferent, let alone oblivious,
to the momentary, great scene.
No,
like Mrs. Gudgeon, the smart little little char
come with our London flat,
listening
to the wireless, a most impressive array
of "the best minds"
engaged in difficult,
arduous talk, and she intent on it,
to her husband's
"What're you listening for?
You don't understand a word they say,"
rejoining
"O I enjoy it, just the sound
of it, so musical, And anyway I take
from it whatever I like,
then make of it,
in my own mind, whatever I will,"
like Mrs. Gudgeon
most of us, watching
the moment, some spectacular event,
whether it be Icarus,
Cleopatra consorting
with the streets, or the astronauts
cavorting on the moon,
bear off those bits
that we can use. This is the greatness
of each creature,
the mouse at the Feast
of the Gods, one crumb doing for it
what heaped-up platters cannot do for Them.
