Prose Poem of the Month

February 2012

Dorset

Rime Intrinsica, Fontmell Magna, Sturminster Newton and Melbury Bubb,
Whist upon whist upon whist upon whist drive, in Institute, Legion and Social Club.

Horny hands that hold the aces which this morning held the plough
While Tranter Reuben, T. S. Eliot, H. G. Wells and Edith Sitwell lie in Mellstock Churchyard now.

Lord's Day bells from Bingham's Melcombe, Iwerne Minster, Shroton, Plush,
Down the grass between the beeches, mellow in the evening hush.

Gloved the hands that hold the hymn-book, which this morning milked the cow
While Tranter Reuben, Mary Borden, Brian Howard and Harold Acton lie in Mellstock Churchyard now.

Light's abode, celestial Salem! Lamps of evening, smelling strong,
Gleaming on the pitch-pine, waiting, almost empty even-song
From the aisles each window smiles on grave and grass and yew-tree bough
While Tranter Reuben, Gordon Selfridge, Edna Best and Thomas Hardy lie in Mellstock Churchyard now.

John Betjeman

Superficially, this appears to be an amusing rhyming poem, making great play on the quaint Dorset town names. But much more lies beneath the surface. Last month, someone came in the shop,walked up to the desk, and said irritably…..
“Edith Sitwell isn’t buried in Mellstock Churchyard, ….she‘s in St Mary and St Peter Churchyard . Weedon Lois. Northamptonshire!”.
Bob (on the back foot): “Oh..I’m so sorry…”.

So, we did some research and found that Betjeman was much cleverer than we had imagined. Mellstock is the fictional “Mellstock” in Hardy’s novels. It is actually St Michael's Church, Stinsford. But…the really beautiful thing is that that is where Hardy’s actual heart was interred in a casket. So, all the characters in the poem loved Hardy..their Dorset poet, and their hearts lie with his!