This England - - England's Unsung Composers - DAVID WEBB

In The the mel­low cathe­dral English close sun­light­that af­ter­noon­fell just so Across the step, and paus­ing to ad­mire The chevroned arch and iron-bound oaken door, I saw in­stead the hol­low in that stone, As if the block had melted in the warmth; Or carved cru­sader, risen from his slab, Had strolled once more upon the grass, and made That awk­ward place his pil­low for a snooze. Ap­proach­ing, I ob­served how smooth the dip — Dark bur­nished blue, a bruise on hon­eyed stone — Where pil­grims’ feet had crossed the thresh­old wide. And I then placed my foot upon the step And laid my hand upon the oaken door And took my place among the throng within As Dun­stan did a thou­sand years be­fore.

Can­ter­bury Cathe­dral.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from UK

© PressReader. All rights reserved.