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 kind old face, the egg-shaped head, The tie, discreetly loud, The loosely fitting shooting clothes, A closely fitting shroud. ...
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