We hope that this
scheme has now been abandoned, and that the old house is safe for many
years to come.
[Illustration: Weather-boarded Houses, Crown Street, Portsmouth]
At the other end of the county of Oxfordshire remote from Thame is the
beautiful little town of Burford, the gem of the Cotswolds. No
wonder that my friend "Sylvanus Urban," otherwise Canon Beeching,
sings of its charm:--
Oh fair is Moreton in the marsh
And Stow on the wide wold,
Yet fairer far is Burford town
With its stone roofs grey and old;
And whether the sky be hot and high,
Or rain fall thin and chill,
The grey old town on the lonely down
Is where I would be still.
O broad and smooth the Avon flows
By Stratford's many piers;
And Shakespeare lies by Avon's side
These thrice a hundred years;
But I would be where Windrush sweet
Laves Burford's lovely hill--
The grey old town on the lonely down
Is where I would be still.
It is unlike any other place, this quaint old Burford, a right
pleasing place when the sun is pouring its beams upon the fantastic
creations of the builders of long ago, and when the moon is full there
is no place in England which surpasses it in picturesqueness.
Pages:
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113