Ana­gram

Daily Mail - - Letters -

COM­POSED UPON WEST­MIN­STER BRIDGE, SEPTEM­BER 3, 1802 by Wil­liam Wordsworth

Earth has not any­thing to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touch­ing in its majesty: This City now doth, like a gar­ment, wear The beauty of the morn­ing; silent, bare, Ships, tow­ers, domes, theatres, and tem­ples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glit­ter­ing in the smoke­less air. Never did sun more beau­ti­fully steep In his first splen­dour, val­ley, rock, or hill; Ne’er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will: Dear God! the very houses seem asleep; And all that mighty heart is ly­ing still!

OUR SPOILED TOUR WEST­MIN­STER BRIDGE — APRIL 18, 2.30PM

The view from this great bridge to­day is sad, Un­happy, like in ‘trou­bling to the soul’, And as I take my me­lan­choly stroll, I see Big Ben in scaf­fold­ing is clad, And just to show the whole world has gone mad, The irk­some cli­mate mob’s as­sumed con­trol; To snarl up Lon­don’s high­ways is their goal. Do they feel guilty? No sir, they are glad! Mean­while, West­min­ster’s Par­lia­ment stands tall, This ed­i­fice that we wish to pre­serve, Yet presently the House is run by fools, Who seem to think they rule rather than serve. Still we Bri­tish shouldn’t be ap­palled, In life we get the Govern­ment we de­serve. Tony Crafter, Sevenoaks, Kent.

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