15 NOVEMBER 1963, Page 22

And You?

So we travelled together again By the train down the valley On top of the water reflecting Blackness and green, I in the carriage. And you- , I walked up through the trees, Slept guilty and badly, woke up To customary echoes, heard sadly Expected clucking of hens, In the hollows.

And you? Men I once knew Climbed up to muffle the clappers, Descended to swing Slow-seeming peals for an hour, Sun veils holding the tower.

To begin with slightly it rained. Bright-feathered hens Were shooed out, and Returned. It was there You remained.

GEOFFREY GRIGSON