enough to consummate their relationship shortly before they married, [Cecil] Day-Lewis had responded with a poem on the transience of love. This must have been a difficult stanza to read for the woman who had just surrendered her virginity to him:
His pretty came among the primroses
With open breast for him. No more denied
Seemed no more ideal. He was unsatisfied . . .
from The Times: The lustful Laureate
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