Glasses raised

While on a day trip to Oxford which will be written on a short while later, I made it my mission to stop off at a certain pub which was a ways off the beaten track.  On a side road leading to what seems nowhere is the Victoria Arms Pub.

Why ever did I go there, you may ask?  And I would answer that mystery series (on television as well as in print) seem to captivate me ever so much, and Oxford for me is most often associated not with education but with the world of Inspector Morse and Lewis (now, also Hathaway, in the new series).  In the back of my mind, I remembered a scene from the final episode of Morse where he quotes some poetry, a foreshadowing of his death. It is a beautiful scene, filmed at the end of the day, as the sun faded and night fell.

So, it was with this in mind that we drove there, thanks once again to the ever amiable E., who amused us by entertaining my rather specific whims.  On the drive there from Oxford, I secretly memorized the lines of poetry (which I wrote down beforehand on a piece of paper) that Morse had uttered.

When we arrived, the place was packed as there was a live music event about to start, but fortunately it did not start just yet.  We made our way towards the edge of the water, where the scene was filmed.  It was still quiet.  With pints in hand, we raised them in tribute to old friends and John Thaw (Morse), and I recited the lines from A.E. Housman:

Ensanguining the skies
How heavily it dies
  Into the west away;
Past touch and sight and sound
Not further to be found,
How hopeless under ground
  Falls the remorseful day.