Felixstowe, or The Last of Her Order (John Betjeman Poem)
With one consuming roar along the shingle The long wave claws and rakes the pebbles down To where its backwash ...
With one consuming roar along the shingle The long wave claws and rakes the pebbles down To where its backwash ...
Was it worth keeping the Halt open, We thought as we looked at the sky Red through the spread of ...
I made hay while the sun shone. My work sold. Now, if the harvest is over And the world cold, ...
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