A Whispering And Watery Norfolk Sound Telling Of All The Moonlit Reeds Around.
Lovers Of Norfolk Churches Can Never Agree Which Is The Best And I Think One Is Either A Salle Or A Cawston Man.
Oh Wasn't It Naughty Of Smudges? Oh, Mummy, I'm Sick With Disgust. She Threww Me In Front Of The Judges, And My Silly Old Collar-bone's Bust.
Oh! Full Surrey Twilight! Importunate Band! Oh! Strongly Adorable Tennis-girl's Hand!
Old Men Who Never Cheated, Never Doubted, Communicated Monthly, Sit And Stare At The New Suburb Stretched Beyond The Run-way Where A Young Man Lands Hatless From The Air.
And Behind Their Frail Partitions Business Women Lie And Soak, Seeing Through The Draughty Skylight Flying Clouds And Railway Smoke. Rest You There, Poor Unbelov'd Ones, Lap Your Loneliness In Heat, All Too Soon The Tiny Breakfast, Trolley-bus And Windy Street!
And London Shops On Christmas Eve Are Strung With Silver Bells And Flowers As Hurrying Clerks The City Leave To Pigeon-haunted Classic Towers, And Marbled Clouds Go Scudding By The Many-steepled London Sky
