P469ORACLE 469 Mon 2 Dec C4 1702:24   F/R WWW MONDAY All's unravelled under the sun by the wind's blowing. Shall I be let to sleep now this perpetual morning shares my bed ? Can even death dry up these new delightful lakes, conclude our kneeling as cattle by all-generous waters ? - the wor0s of a girl the morning after her weTding in the Poem 'Webding Wind' by Phillip Larkin, who dieb to !y. BRITISH CHURCHES' T'TEXT LONBON N9 5JU Main Index..400 Racing...470