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Westminster Abbey
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In all the land
A pile so grand
Is scarcely found
As this. Around
Its old grey walls
The shadow falls
Of bygone years,
And so one fears
To raise one’s tone,
When one is shown
Some ancient tomb,
Half hid in gloom.
Beneath such stones
There rest the bones
Of monarchs bold,
Whose story's told
For you and me
In history.
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