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The Unpredicted

The Unpredicted by John Heath - Stubbs (b.1918) ' The goddess Fortune be praised (on her toothed wheel I have been mincemeat these several years) Last night, for a whole night, the unpredictable Lay in my arms, in a tender and unquiet rest - (I perceived the irrelevance of my former tears) - Lay, and at dawn departed. I rose and walked the streets Where a whitsuntide wind blew fresh, and blackbirds Incontestably sang, and the people were beautiful. ' Reprinted by permission of the author from Selected Poems (OUP) © John Heath-Stubbs Poems on the Underground

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