Now if the harvest is over, And the world cold, Give me the bonus of laughter, As I lose hold. John Betjeman More Quotes by John Betjeman More Quotes From John Betjeman Childhood is measured out by sounds and smells and sights, before the dark hour of reason grows. John Betjeman sight dark children Norfolk would not be Norfolk without a church tower on the horizon or round a corner up a lane. We cannot spare a single Norfolk church. When a church has been pulled down the country seems empty or is like a necklace with a jewel missing. John Betjeman jewels missing country On out deathbeds we're not going to regret all the work we didn't do. We're going to regret all the sex we didn't have! John Betjeman deathbed regret sex Too many people in the modern world view poetry as a luxury, not a necessity like petrol. But to me it's the oil of life. John Betjeman luxury oil views It's strange that those we miss the most Are those we take for granted. John Betjeman granted strange missing What the Londoner sees in his mind's eye is that cluster of towers and pinnacles seen from Pentonville Hill and outlined against a foggy sunset, and the great arc of Barlow's train shed gaping to devour incoming engines, and the sudden burst of exuberant Gothic of the hotel seen from gloomy Judd Street. John Betjeman sunset eye mind History must not be written with bias, and both sides must be given, even if there is only one side. John Betjeman given sides history People's backyards are much more interesting than their front gardens, and houses that back on to railways are public benefactors. John Betjeman garden home people And I think it was the outline of that church tower at Belaugh against the sky which gave me a passion for churches so that every church I've past since I've wanted to stop and look in. John Betjeman passion past thinking I ought to warn you that my verse is of no interest to people who can think. John Betjeman interest people thinking Topography is one of my chief themes in my poetry, about the country, the suburbs and the seaside. Then there comes love... and increasingly; the fear of death. John Betjeman topography fear-of-death country Hymns are the poetry of the people. John Betjeman hymns people And now, dear Lord, I cannot wait Because I have a luncheon date. John Betjeman dear-lord waiting food Gracious Lord, oh bomb the Germans. Spare their women for Thy Sake, And if that is not too easy, We will pardon Thy Mistake. But, gracious Lord, whate'er shall be, Don't let anyone bomb me. John Betjeman bombs sake mistake I have a Vision of the Future, chum. The workers flats in fields of soya beans tower up like silver pencils, score on score. John Betjeman visions-of-the-future towers fields There are two thing you need for a jolly good hymn.The first is a set of words that expresses the mood or sentiment of the worshipper.The second-and perhaps even more important- is a good tune..with a simple popular melody. John Betjeman hymns simple two 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! John Betjeman loneliness clouds lying I don't think I am any good. If I thought I was any good, I wouldn't be. John Betjeman ifs thinking Imprisoned in a cage of sound, even the trivial seems profound John Betjeman cages sound profound Ludlow....is probably the loveliest town in England with its hill of Georgian houses ascending from the river Teme to the great tower of the cross-shaped church, rising behind a classic market building. John Betjeman church house rivers
