I am moving on to another writer that I have not featured here before - Hilaire Belloc.

Perhaps that is because of his French name!

However, although he was born in France, Belloc became became a naturalized British subject, so I suppose I should allow him in.

He was a staunch Catholic and this is reflected in much of his poetry.

His "cautionary tales", humorous poems with a moral, are the most widely known of his writings.

Supposedly for children they, like Lewis Carroll's works, are perhaps more appreciated by adults.

I may post some of them from tomorrow onwards, but here to begin with is his"Tarantella", a reflection on a girl in rural France

HILAIRE

Do you remember an Inn,
Miranda?
Do you remember an Inn?
And the tedding and the spreading
Of the straw for a bedding,
And the fleas that tease in the High Pyrenees,
And the wine that tasted of tar?
And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteers
(Under the vine of the dark verandah)?
Do you remember an Inn, Miranda,
Do you remember an Inn?
And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteeers
Who hadn't got a penny,
And who weren't paying any,
And the hammer at the doors and the Din?
And the Hip! Hop! Hap!
Of the clap
Of the hands to the twirl and the swirl
Of the girl gone chancing,
Glancing,
Dancing,
Backing and advancing,
Snapping of a clapper to the spin
Out and in --
And the Ting, Tong, Tang, of the Guitar.
Do you remember an Inn,
Miranda?
Do you remember an Inn?

Never more;
Miranda,
Never more.
Only the high peaks hoar:
And Aragon a torrent at the door.
No sound
In the walls of the Halls where falls
The tread
Of the feet of the dead to the ground
No sound:
But the boom
Of the far Waterfall like Doom.