Verses Turned… (John Betjeman Poem)
Across the wet November night The church is bright with candlelight And waiting Evensong. A single bell with plaintive strokes ...
Across the wet November night The church is bright with candlelight And waiting Evensong. A single bell with plaintive strokes ...
The three men coming down the winter hill In brown, with tall poles and a pack of hounds At heel, ...
She died in the upstairs bedroom By the light of the ev'ning star That shone through the plate glass window ...
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