Advent

This was read on Radio 3 on Friday. I thought I heard it announced as  Advent 1953,  no matter, for this time of year the words and sentiment are exquisite

Advent 1955 

by John Betjeman

The Advent wind begins to stir

With sea-like sounds in our Scotch fir,

It's dark at breakfast, dark at tea,

And in between we only see

Clouds hurrying across the sky

And rain-wet roads the wind blows dry

And branches bending to the gale

Against great skies all silver pale

The world seems travelling into space,

And travelling at a faster pace

Than in the leisured summer weather

When it and we sit out together,

For now we feel the world spin round

On some momentous journey bound -

Journey to what? to whom? to where?

The Advent bells call out 'Prepare,

Your world is journeying to the birth

Of God made Man for us on earth.'

Against great skies all silver pale . . .