Ted Hughes — Soliloquy of a Misanthrope

Whenever I am got under my gravestone Sending my flowers up to stare at the church-tower, Gritting my teeth in the chill from the church-floor, I shall praise God heartily, to see gone, As I look round at old acquaintance there, Complacency from the smirk of every man, And every attitude showing its bone, And every mouth confessing its crude shire; But I shall thank God thrice heartily To be lying beside women who grimace Under the commitments of their flesh, And not out of spite or vanity.