Thanks - but no, not that one.

Shouldn't it be called "From the Fjords to Lord's"?

I can't be surprised by anything she says - she's a vile person.

It's from a recent print-journal issue.

May I recommend "The Ritz"? A woefully underappreciated film.

Thank you! (And glad to be of service! They still run, I believe.)

Stackridge never became as well-known and popular as they deserved.

How confusing - at first I thought it meant a shop selling integrated circuits.

To be honest I know the poem only as an Irish air (best known in Stanford's arrangement). I confess that I don't know Pascoli's work at all -- I must remedy that.

Worthy of St Trinian's.

"Who undertakes to be your friend"

Alas! fruit and blossom
Shall scatter the lea,
And Time’s jealous fingers
Dim your young charms, machree.
But unranging, unchanging,
You’ll still cling to me,
Like an evergreen leaf
To the arbutus tree.

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But though ruddy the berry
And snowy the flower
That brighten together
The arbutus bower,
Perfuming and blooming
Through sunshine and shower,
Give me her bright lips
And her laugh’s pearly dower.

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My Love’s an Arbutus
Graves, Alfred Perceval (1846-1931)

My love’s an arbutus
By the borders of Lene,
So slender and shapely
In her girdle of green;
And I measure the pleasure
Of her eye’s sapphire sheen
By the blue skies that sparkle
Through that soft branching screen.

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