Sir John Betjeman
Sir John Betjeman
Sir John Betjeman
Sir John Betjeman
Sir John Betjeman
Sir John Betjeman
Sir John Betjeman
Sir John Betjeman
Sir John Betjeman
Sir John Betjeman
Sir John Betjeman
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 knob 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"
Devonshire Street W.1 was written by Sir John Betjeman.