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Read by Niall Buggy
Imagine a woodin Wales, virtually in Englanda mile away as crows who nest in it fly. The wood is small and scruffy.Sheep can…
I wander thro’ each charter’d street, Near where the charter’d Thames does flow. And mark in every face I meet Marks of…
Twas on a Holy Thursday their innocent faces clean The children walking two & two in red & blue & green Grey-headed…
Read by Harold Pinter, Freddie Fox & Samuel West
‘Of course I was drugged, and so heavily I did not regain consciousness until the next morning. I was horrified to discover…
