Classical art, and the rise of Gothic, and also the decline of fine lettering. Here among the
leafy avenues, accompanied by the smell of gas, they are awaiting the general resurrection.
I imagine them breaking open the costly marble sarcophagi, products of heart-breaking la-
bours, and stepping out, as the dead do in the pictures by Stanley Spencer, but in straw
boaters, and spats, and elastic sided boots. Meanwhile, however, the railway shrieks and
clatters, and a blackbird perches on the decayed top of an urn. Blessed are they that are
called unto the marriage supper of the Lamb.