Anthony Hecht

Anthony Evan Hecht (January 16, 1923 – October 20, 2004) was an American poet.

New York: Atheneum

• So there stood Matthew Arnold and this girl
  With the cliffs of England crumbling away behind them,
  And he said to her, "Try to be true to me,
  And I'll do the same for you, for things are bad
  All over, etc., etc." ...
  But all the time he was talking she had in mind
  The notion of what his whiskers would feel like
  On the back of her neck.
  • "The Dover Bitch (A Criticism of Life)", l. 1
  • Also published in the Transatlantic Review, no. 2 (1959) pp. 57–58

• She got to looking out
  At the lights across the channel, and really felt sad,
  Thinking of all the wine and enormous beds
  And blandishments in French and the perfumes.
  • "The Dover Bitch", l. 12

• To have been brought
  All the way down from London, and then be addressed
  As a sort of mournful cosmic last resort
  Is really tough on a girl, and she was pretty.
  • "The Dover Bitch", l. 16

• And then she said one or two unprintable things.
  • "The Dover Bitch", l. 22

• Running to fat, but dependable as they come.
  • "The Dover Bitch", l. 28

• And sometimes I bring her a bottle of Nuit d' Amour.
  • "The Dover Bitch", l. 29

    Cf. Arnold, "Dover Beach" (1867)

• Much casual death had drained away their souls.
  • "'More Light! More Light'", st. 5

• No light, no light in the blue Polish eye.
  • "'More Light! More Light'", st. 6

• The Lüger hovered lightly in its glove.
  • "'More Light! More Light'", st. 6

• No prayers or incense rose up in those hours
  Which grew to be years, and every day came mute
  Ghosts from the ovens, sifting through crisp air,
  And settled upon his eyes in a black soot.
  • "'More Light! More Light'", st. 7

• Encyclopedic article on Anthony Hecht on Wikipedia