"High Windows" by Philip Larkin

The poignancy in this poem stuck me the most. The speaker proclaims, "That'll be, life; No God any more, or sweating in the dark in the dark about hell and that, or having to hide what you think of the priest. He and his lot will all go down the long slide like bloody birds." Many things are playing into this statement, pain, ire, and some relief perhaps. The speakers dreams of a his or her ideal paradise full of pleasure and nature; a world free of sorrow and worries. The speaker leaves us with this rather edenic description, "Rather than words comes the thought of high windows: The sun-comprehending glass, and beyond it, the deep blue, that shows nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless."