St Michaels Chapel

When the vexed hubbub of our world of gain Roars round about me as I walk the street,

The myriad noise of Traffic, and the beat Of Toil's incessant hammer, the fierce strain Of struggle hand to hand and brain to brain,

Ofttimes a sudden dream my sense will cheat,

The gaudy shops, the sky-piled roofs retreat,

And all at once I stand enthralled again Within a marble minster over-seas.

I watch the solemn gold-stained gloom that creeps To kiss an alabaster tomb, where sleeps A lady 'twixt two knights' stone effigies,

And every day in dusky glory steeps Their sculptured slumber of five centuries.