I Don't Think I Am Any Good.

Oh! Full Surrey Twilight! Importunate Band! Oh! Strongly Adorable Tennis-girl's Hand!

I Have A Vision Of The Future, Chum. The Workers Flats In Fields Of Soya Beans Tower Up Like Silver Pencils, Score On Score.

I Am Still Reeling With Delight At The Soaring Majesty Of Norfolk.

It's Strange That Those We Miss The Most Are Those We Take For Granted.

Hymns Are The Poetry Of The People.