Stands the Church clock at ten to three? And is there honey still for tea?
Ah God! to see the branches stir Across the moon at Grantchester! To smell the thrilling-sweet and rotten Unforgettable, unforgotten River-smell, and hear the breeze Sobbing in the little trees. Say, do the elm-clumps greatly stand Still guardians of...
Stands the clock at ten to three? And is there honey still for tea?
