St Michael's 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.