“As I Walked Out One Evening” by W.H. Auden. 

    As I walked out one evening,
       Walking down Bristol Street,
    The crowds upon the pavement
       Were fields of harvest wheat.

    And down by the brimming river
       I heard a lover sing
    Under an arch of the railway:
       'Love has no ending.

    'I'll love you, dear, I'll love you
       Till China and Africa meet,
    And the river jumps over the mountain
       And the salmon sing in the street,

    'I'll love you till the ocean
       Is folded and hung up to dry
    And the seven stars go squawking
       Like geese about the sky.

    'The years shall run like rabbits,
       For in my arms I hold
    The Flower of the Ages,
       And the first love of the world.'

    But all the clocks in the city
       Began to whirr and chime:
    'O let not Time deceive you,
       You cannot conquer Time.

    'In the burrows of the Nightmare
       Where Justice naked is,
    Time watches from the shadow
       And coughs when you would kiss.

    'In headaches and in worry
       Vaguely life leaks away,
    And Time will have his fancy
       To-morrow or to-day.

    'Into many a green valley
       Drifts the appalling snow;
    Time breaks the threaded dances
       And the diver's brilliant bow.

    'O plunge your hands in water,
       Plunge them in up to the wrist;
    Stare, stare in the basin
       And wonder what you've missed.

    'The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
       The desert sighs in the bed,
    And the crack in the tea-cup opens
       A lane to the land of the dead.

    'Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
       And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
    And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,
       And Jill goes down on her back.

    'O look, look in the mirror,
       O look in your distress:
    Life remains a blessing
       Although you cannot bless.

    'O stand, stand at the window
       As the tears scald and start;
    You shall love your crooked neighbour
       With your crooked heart.'

    It was late, late in the evening,
       The lovers they were gone;
    The clocks had ceased their chiming,
       And the deep river ran on. 


As I Walked Out One Evening by W.H. Auden (Tom Hiddleston)

Tom Hiddleston and Helena Botham Carter reading “Us Two” by A.A. Milne.

    Wherever I am, there’s always Pooh,
    There’s always Pooh and Me.
    Whatever I do, he wants to do,
    “Where are you going today?” says Pooh:
    “Well, that’s very odd ‘cos I was too.
    Let’s go together,” says Pooh, says he.
    “Let’s go together,” says Pooh.

    “What’s twice eleven?” I said to Pooh.
    (“Twice what?” said Pooh to Me.)
    “I think it ought to be twenty-two.”
    “Just what I think myself,” said Pooh.
    “It wasn’t an easy sum to do,
    But that’s what it is,” said Pooh, said he.
    “That’s what it is,” said Pooh.

    “Let’s look for dragons,” I said to Pooh.
    “Yes, let’s,” said Pooh to Me.
    We crossed the river and found a few-
    “Yes, those are dragons all right,” said Pooh.
    “As soon as I saw their beaks I knew.
    That’s what they are,” said Pooh, said he.
    “That’s what they are,” said Pooh.

    “Let’s frighten the dragons,” I said to Pooh.
    “That’s right,” said Pooh to Me.
    “I’m not afraid,” I said to Pooh,
    And I held his paw and I shouted “Shoo!
    Silly old dragons!”- and off they flew.

    “I wasn’t afraid,” said Pooh, said he,
    “I’m never afraid with you.” 

    So wherever I am, there’s always Pooh,
    There’s always Pooh and Me.
    “What would I do?” I said to Pooh,
    “If it wasn’t for you,” and Pooh said: “True,
    It isn’t much fun for One, but Two,
    Can stick together, says Pooh, says he. “That’s how it is,” says Pooh.

“Us Two” by A.A. Milne (Tom Hiddleston and Helena Botham Carter)

“Sonnet 130” by William Shakespeare.

    My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;
    Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;
    If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
    If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
    I have seen roses damask, red and white,
    But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
    And in some perfumes is there more delight
    Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
    I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
    That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
    I grant I never saw a goddess go;
    My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
    And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
    As any she belied with false compare.


Tom Hiddleston reads “Sonnet 130” by William Shakespeare

Main-on-end titles for Guillermo del Toro’s Crimson Peak

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