Youth Is Stranger Than Fiction.

Stands The Church Clock At Ten To Three? And Is There Honey Still For Tea?

It's All A Terrible Tragedy. And Yet, In It's Details, It's Great Fun. And - Apart From The Tragedy - I've Never Felt Happier Or Better In My Life Than In Those Days In Belgium.

I Have Been So Great A Lover: Filled My Days So Proudly With The Splendour Of Love's Praise, The Pain, The Calm, And The Astonishment, Desire Illimitable, And Silent Content, And All Dear Names Men Use, To Cheat Despair, For The Perplexed And Viewless Streams That Bear Our Hearts At Random Down The Dark Of Life.

Breathless, We Flung Us On A Windy Hill, Laughed In The Sun, And Kissed The Lovely Grass.

.. . . Would I Were In Grantchester, In Grantchester!