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Little Lamb who made thee Dost thou know who made thee Gave thee life & bid thee feed. By the stream &…
Read by Charles Dance
You’ll love me yet! – and I can tarry Your love’s protracted growing: June reared that bunch of flowers you carry From…
Read by Harold Pinter, Deborah Findlay & Freddie Fox
Sometimes you hear, fifth-hand, As epitaph: He chucked up everything And just cleared off, And always the voice will sound Certain you…
Read by Deborah Findlay, Freddie Fox & Harold Pinter
“This was Mr Bleaney’s room. He stayed The whole time he was at the Bodies, till They moved him.” Flowered curtains, thin…
[excerpt] ‘What Power delights to torture us? I know That to myself I do not wholly owe What now I suffer, though…
Will you conquer my heart with your beauty; my soul going out from afar? Shall I fall to your hand as a…
Read by Juliet Stevenson
I died for beauty, but was scarce Adjusted in the tomb, When one who died for truth was lain In an adjoining…
Read by Deborah Findlay
Talking in bed ought to be easiest, Lying together there goes back so far, An emblem of two people being honest. Yet…
