The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 35, Pages 553-555
CATHEDRAL HYMN.
BY MRS, HEMANS.
"They dreamt not of a perishable home
Who thus could build. Be mine, in hours of fear
Or grovelling thought, to seek a refuge here."
Wordsworth.
A dim and mighty minster of old Time!
A Temple shadowy with remembrances
Of the majestic Past!—the very Light
Streams with a colouring of heroic days
In every ray, which leads through arch and aisle
A path of dreamy lustre, wandering back
To other years;—and the rich fretted roof,
And the wrought coronals of summer leaves,
Ivy and Vine, and many a sculptured Rose,—
The tenderest image of Mortality—
Binding the slender columns, whose light shafts
Cluster like stems in corn-sheaves—all these things
Tell of a Race that nobly, fearlessly,
On their heart's worship poured a Wealth of Love!