On the 7th of May, 1977, the poet Philip Larkin gave Monica Jones the book 'Thorburn's Mammals' for her 55th birthday. Inside the flyleaf, he wrote:
'The little lives of earth and form,
Of finding food, and keeping warm,
Are not like ours, and yet
A kinship lingers nonetheless:
We hanker for the homeliness
Of den, and hole, and set.
And this identity we feel
- Perhaps not right, perhaps not real -
Will link us constantly;
I see the rock, the clay, the chalk,
The flattened grass, the swaying stalk,
And it is you I see.'
The poem was not published in his lifetime, but it was offered by Monica to Anthony Thwaite for the first edition of Collected Poems in 1988. Since then, it has become one of Larkin's best loved poems.
Larkin usually worked over his poems for weeks and months, but just a single draft of this one exists, dated 6 May 1977 (the day before Monica's birthday), inserted as a loose sheet into the back of one of his workbooks. There are just a few minor differences to the final text. (Reference Burnett, 2014).
Archibald Thorburn was an artist who specialised in paintings of wildlife. His 'Thorburn's Mammals', originally published in two volumes in 1920 and 1921, contains fifty colour prints depicting almost all the species of mammals in the British Isles. The 1974 reissue has an introduction by David Attenborough.
And here are two geese, two hares, a rabbit and a mouse at the feet of St Francis, a detail of glass by Powell & Sons, 1920 at Aldborough, Norfolk. A partridge looks in from the top. Little lives.