To Belloc (G. K. Chesterton Poem)
For every tiny town or place God made the stars especially; Babies look up with owlish face And see them ...
For every tiny town or place God made the stars especially; Babies look up with owlish face And see them ...
Under what withering leprous light The very grass as hair is grey, Grass in the cracks of the paven courts ...
A livid sky on London And like the iron steeds that rear A shock of engines halted And I knew ...
Britannia needs no Boulevards, No spaces wide and gay: Her march was through the crooked streets Along the narrow way. ...
White founts falling in the Courts of the sun, And the Soldan of Byzantium is smiling as they run; There ...
In the city set upon slime and loam They cry in their parliament 'Who goes home?' And there comes no ...
Smile at us, pay us, pass us; but do not quite forget; For we are the people of England, that ...
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