LINCOLN CATHEDRAL.
’Twas the deep forest bodied forth that fane,
So rose the arches of the old oak trees,
So wreathed the close set branches at their side,
So through the open spaces gleamed the sun;
While like an anthem sang the morning birds.
All nature teacheth worship unto man,
And the first instinct of the heart is faith.
Those carved aisles, so noble in their state,
So graceful in each exquisite device,
Are of the past; a rude and barbarous past,
And yet they rose to heaven. Though the red sword
Flashed in the sun, and with unholy flash
Disturbed the silver moonlight’s quiet hour;
Yet even then men craved for peace and heaven.
Hence rose these glorious temples, where the Cross
Still sanctifies its merciful domain.
It is curious to observe how much the aspect of nature has in every country given its aspect to architecture. The colossal proportions of Indian scenery have not more given their likeness to the vast temples of the Hindoos, than our own northern forests have given their own character to the Gothic cathedral.
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