Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 35, Page 634
VIII.
A CHURCH IN NORTH WALES.
Blessings be round it still!—that gleaming fane,
Low in its mountain-glen!—old mossy trees
Narrow the sunshine through th' untinted pane,
And oft, borne in upon some fitful breeze,
The deep sound of the ever-pealing seas,
Filling the hollows with its anthem-tone,
There meets the voice of psalms;—yet not alone
For mansions, lulling to the heart as these,
I bless thee 'midst thy rocks, grey House of Prayer!
But for their sakes that unto thee repair,
From the hill-cabins and the ocean shore:
Oh! may the fisher and the mountaineer
Words to sustain earth's toiling children hear,
Within thy lowly walls for evermore!