23/4/1959 St Dunstans in the East

The next poem from Cyril talks of a church in London, and how its beauty was obscured by modern buildings around it. He talks of never taking it for granted in the event he may never see it again. Perhaps drawing parallels to Marianne...?

St Dunstans in the East

This lovely spire, now almost hid
Between the bricks that modern man
Has reared (a symbol to his mediocrity),
May still be seen, so full of grace
With slender beauty and sincerity.

A hope to all who set their steps
Each morning to the daily task
Of making money for these monstrous millionaires
Who neither wish to see nor care
If other than utilitarian.

I see this lovely thing each day
And thank my God that it is so;
And I look long and always steadfastly.
For all these things must pass, and I
May never venture forth this way again.

23/4/1959

St Dunstan-in-the-East, in the City of London.
Engraving from 'Church Bells' published in 1891

So I learn that St Dunstan-in-the-East is (or rather, was) a church on the north side of the Thames, to the left of Tower Bridge. I presume it would have been on Mr Nash's route to work from London Bridge to Jon Ash bookshop off Fenchurch Street.

The church was heavily damaged, first by the Great Fire of London and rebuilt, then again during the Second World War, on 10 May 1941. Its subsequent ruins, including the original Sir Christopher Wren-designed spire which Cyril writes of, are now part of a public garden. This didn't open until 1971, some 12 years after it featured in Cyril's daily walk to work.

This lovely article (scroll down towards the bottom) tells the story of the church of St Dunstan's including its bells, which ended up being removed and reinstalled in a bell tower at Sterling Vineyards in Calistoga, California overlooking the Napa Valley.