Awww. I just finished the Postscript, and therefore the book. What a huge effort on Byatt's part!
I loved it, tho, maybe ironically, not so much the poetry.
But much else in this story.
And damn, the scene in the graveyard and the descriptions of the storm were fabulous.
In the morning, the whole world had a strange new smell. It was the smell of the aftermath, a green smell, a smell of shredded leaves and oozing resin, of crashed wood and splashed sap, a tart smell, which bore some relation to the smell of bitten apples. It was the smell of death and destruction and it smelled fresh and lively and hopeful.