And at this age having no more to show
Than one hired box should make him pretty sure
He warranted no better, I don't know.
(i) Poem: Mr Bleaney
(ii) Poet: Philip Larkin
(i) Occurrence: End of the Poem (Lines 25-28/28)
(ii) Content: The poet is lodging in a room that once belonged to a man called Mr Bleaney. As he observes the bare furnishings, he draws intimate conclusions about the former lodger. The predecessor was a poor fellow without any belongings, and without any house of his own. He was an eccentric kind of old man, and had no literary or artistic tastes. He used to prefer sauce to gravy; spend his summer holiday with his relatives in Frinton, and Christmas with his sister in Stoke. Although he may not intend to, the poet himself is very much like or perhaps turning into Mr Bleaney.