Seamus Heaney, one of the greatest poets of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, has died today. He was 74. 

The Guardian has some wonderful coverage—videos of Heaney reading his poetry, a slideshow of Heaney through the years, even a picture of the poet’s “reading room” in his Dublin house’s attic.

Here is an excerpt from “Casualty”:

… that morning  

I was taken in his boat,  

The Screw purling, turning  

Indolent fathoms white,  

I tasted freedom with him.  

To get out early, haul  

Steadily off the bottom,  

Dispraise the catch, and smile  

As you find a rhythm  

Working you, slow mile by mile,  

Into your proper haunt  

Somewhere, well out, beyond…