devonshire street w.1 - sir john betjeman lyrics
the heavy mahogany door with its wrought*iron screen
shuts. and the sound is rich, sympathetic, discreet
the sun still shines on this eighteenth*century scene
with edwardian faience adornment ** devonshire street
no hope. and the x*ray photographs under his arm
confirm the message. his wife stands timidly by
the opposite brick*built house looks lofty and calm
its chimneys steady against the mackerel sky
no hope. and the iron kn*b of this palisade
so cold to the touch, is luckier now than he
“oh merciless, hurrying londoners! why was i made
for the long and painful deathbеd coming to me?”
she puts her fingеrs in his, as, loving and silly
at long*past kensington dances she used to do
“it’s cheaper to take the tube to piccadilly
and then we can catch a nineteen or twenty*two”
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