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No, it is a village in Cambridgeshire, England. Grantchester is said to have the highest concentration of Nobel Prize winners.
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What is the population of Grantchester?
Grantchester's population is 552.
When was Grantchester Grind created?
Grantchester Grind was created in 1995.
What is the theme of The Old Vicarage Grantchester?
Jesus Lopez
What is the real name of the lord grantchester?
Christopher John Suenson-Taylor, 3rd Baron Grantchester(born 8 April 1951) is a British peer and Labour politician.
When was Gregory Bateson born?
Gregory Bateson was born on May 9, 1904, in Grantchester, Cambridgeshire, England, UK.
Where were evacuees from London specifically Chelsea and Brompton sent during WW2?
Me and my sister Kate who lived in Seymour Walk together with other pupils from Bousefield School in the Little Boltons were evacuated to Grantchester. Kate and I were fortunate in that we were accommodated in The Old Vicarage now the residence of Lord & Lady Archer. This idyllic situation did not last and we were both relocated twice in my case until I was taken in by kind folks with whom I stayed until the end of 1945. I believe that by 1942 I was the only evacuee left in the village. We have been trying to establish the date of our arrival in Grantchester and if there are any records. Any information would be welcomed.
What is the connection between Rupert Brooke and Jeffrey Archer?
Rupert Brooke was a poet who lived during the early 20th century and is known for his war poetry, while Jeffrey Archer is a contemporary British author and former politician. There is no direct connection between the two, as they come from different time periods and fields of work.
What is the roman name for Cambridge?
The Roman settlement on the site of present-day Cambridge was called Duriloponte. More commonly used, however, is the medieval latin name Cantabriggia, probably a latinisation of the anglo-saxon Grantabrycge (the contemporary name of the river Cam being the Granta, as reflected in other local place names such as Grantchester).
Do you know this song by a female singerYou were my summer love I am in the sky above dreaming on my summer love.?
This is what i got off youtube Just now the lilac is in bloom, All before my little room; And in my flower-beds, I think, Smile the carnation and the pink; And down the borders, well I know, The poppy and the pansy blow . . . Oh! there the chestnuts, summer through, Beside the river make for you A tunnel of green gloom, and sleep Deeply above; and green and deep The stream mysterious glides beneath, Green as a dream and deep as death. - Oh, damn! I know it! and I know How the May fields all golden show, And when the day is young and sweet, Gild gloriously the bare feet That run to bathe . . . 'Du lieber Gott!' Here am I, sweating, sick, and hot, And there the shadowed waters fresh Lean up to embrace the naked flesh. Temperamentvoll German Jews Drink beer around; - and THERE the dews Are soft beneath a morn of gold. Here tulips bloom as they are told; Unkempt about those hedges blows An English unofficial rose; And there the unregulated sun Slopes down to rest when day is done, And wakes a vague unpunctual star, A slippered Hesper; and there are Meads towards Haslingfield and Coton Where das Betreten's not verboten. ειθε γενοιμην . . . would I were In Grantchester, in Grantchester! - Some, it may be, can get in touch With Nature there, or Earth, or such. And clever modern men have seen A Faun a-peeping through the green, And felt the Classics were not dead, To glimpse a Naiad's reedy head, Or hear the Goat-foot piping low: . . . But these are things I do not know. I only know that you may lie Day long and watch the Cambridge sky, And, flower-lulled in sleepy grass, Hear the cool lapse of hours pass, Until the centuries blend and blur In Grantchester, in Grantchester. . . . Still in the dawnlit waters cool His ghostly Lordship swims his pool, And tries the strokes, essays the tricks, Long learnt on Hellespont, or Styx. Dan Chaucer hears his river still Chatter beneath a phantom mill. Tennyson notes, with studious eye, How Cambridge waters hurry by . . . And in that garden, black and white, Creep whispers through the grass all night; And spectral dance, before the dawn, A hundred Vicars down the lawn; Curates, long dust, will come and go On lissom, clerical, printless toe; And oft between the boughs is seen The sly shade of a Rural Dean . . . Till, at a shiver in the skies, Vanishing with Satanic cries, The prim ecclesiastic rout Leaves but a startled sleeper-out, Grey heavens, the first bird's drowsy calls, The falling house that never falls. God! I will pack, and take a train, And get me to England once again! For England's the one land, I know, Where men with Splendid Hearts may go; And Cambridgeshire, of all England, The shire for Men who Understand; And of THAT district I prefer The lovely hamlet Grantchester. For Cambridge people rarely smile, Being urban, squat, and packed with guile; And Royston men in the far South Are black and fierce and strange of mouth; At Over they fling oaths at one, And worse than oaths at Trumpington, And Ditton girls are mean and dirty, And there's none in Harston under thirty, And folks in Shelford and those parts Have twisted lips and twisted hearts, And Barton men make Cockney rhymes, And Coton's full of nameless crimes, And things are done you'd not believe At Madingley on Christmas Eve. Strong men have run for miles and miles, When one from Cherry Hinton smiles; Strong men have blanched, and shot their wives, Rather than send them to St. Ives; Strong men have cried like babes, bydam, To hear what happened at Babraham. But Grantchester! ah, Grantchester! There's peace and holy quiet there, Great clouds along pacific skies, And men and women with straight eyes, Lithe children lovelier than a dream, A bosky wood, a slumbrous stream, And little kindly winds that creep Round twilight corners, half asleep. In Grantchester their skins are white; They bathe by day, they bathe by night; The women there do all they ought; The men observe the Rules of Thought. They love the Good; they worship Truth; They laugh uproariously in youth; (And when they get to feeling old, They up and shoot themselves, I'm told) . . . Ah God! to see the branches stir Across the moon at Grantchester! -sorry, ran out of text space -www.englishverse.com have full text
Which poet who wrote about Cambridgeshire village?
Rupert Brooke (1887-1915) mentions several Cambridgeshire villages in "The Old Vicarage, Grantchester" (1912). You will find the poem and some interesting notes here: http://rpo.library.utoronto.ca/poem/231.html
Is Dublin a town?
Dublin is a city in Ireland.Dublin is a city in Ireland.Dublin is a city in Ireland.Dublin is a city in Ireland.Dublin is a city in Ireland.Dublin is a city in Ireland.Dublin is a city in Ireland.Dublin is a city in Ireland.Dublin is a city in Ireland.Dublin is a city in Ireland.Dublin is a city in Ireland.
What city is within a city?
the city of Vatican City is within the city of Rome
