“I pour on wine; it seems they beg for more. The beaked shells yearning wide as if in song – Yet dumb – and lewdly lolling parrot-tongues. Cream licks the back of a spoon and drawls a slur of unctuous benediction for this feast. We smooth our cassocks; bow our heads; and eat.”

Extract from The Nation’s Favourite Poems of Desire, by Elizabeth Garrett