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St Michaels Chapel

by
 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.

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