Before the Anaesthetic, or A Real Fright

By John Betjeman Intolerably sad, profound St. Giles’s bells are ringing round, They bring the slanting summer rain To tap the chestnut boughs again Whose shadowy cave of rainy leaves The gusty belfry-song receives. Intolerably sad and true, Victorian red and jewel blue, The mellow bells are ringing round And charge the evening light with … More Before the Anaesthetic, or A Real Fright