" Away to sweet Felpham, for Heaven is there ; The Ladder of Angels descends through the air ; On the turret its spiral does softly descend, Through the village then winds, at my cot it does end.
You stand in the village and look up to heaven ; The precious stones glitter on flight seventy-seven ; And my brother is there, and my friends and thine Descend and ascend with the bread and the wine.
The bread of sweet thought and the wine of delight Feed the village of Felpham by day and by night, And at his own door the bless'd hermit does stand, Dispensing unceasing to all the wide land."
Blake, to Mrs. Flaxman.
On the shores of the venerable and recently restored harbour that is now called after it is the scattered village of Pagham, with very slight traces of an old house belonging to the Archbishop*