To Trowbridge by train today.
In quick succession you go past the White Horse at Westbury, as in Ravilious' painting, and Dilton Marsh, of John Betjeman’s poem
There isn’t a porter. The platform is made of sleepers.
The guard of the last train puts out the light
And high over lorries and cattle the Halt unwinking
Waits through the Wiltshire night.