“Yurstendæi wes Baldulf cnihten alre baldest.
nu he stant on hulle & Auene bi-haldeð.
hu ligeð i þan stræme stelene fisces.
mid sweorde bi-georede heore sund is awemmed.
heore scalen wleoteð swulc gold-faye sceldes.
þer fleoteð heore spiten swulc hit spæren weoren.
Þis beoð seolcuðe þing isiyen to þissen londe.
swulche deor an hulle swulche fisces in wælle.”

Sonnet
Urban Hymns (1997)

A Brief History of Timewasting, Room 101, The News Quiz

For My Country's Freedom, Cap 11 "Like Father, Like Son"

"Alas! Deceived", p. 367 (1993).
Writing Home (1994)

Plus douce qu'aux enfants la chair des pommes sures,
L'eau verte pénétra ma coque de sapin.
St. 5
Le Bateau Ivre http://www.mag4.net/Rimbaud/poesies/Boat.html (The Drunken Boat) (1871)

Source: The Mark of Athena

"Political Correctness: Robert Bly and Philip Larkin" (1997)
Context: Philip Larkin, a big, fat, bald librarian at the University of Hull, was unquestionably England's unofficial laureate: our best-loved poet since the war; better loved for our poet than John Betjeman, who was loved also for his charm, his famous beagle, his patrician Bohemianism and his televisual charisma, all of which Larkin notably lacked.
Ten years later, Larkin is now something like a pariah, or an untouchable.

Source: Immortality, Inc. (1959), Chapter 35 (p. 148)

1880s, Reminiscences (1881)