57 



SALISBURY CATHEDRAL. 



Oh cold grey pile of shapely stone, 

 We hold you good, we count you fair, 



Your graceful beauty stands alone 

 Mid England's jewels rich and rare. 



Oh tall grey spire against the sky, 

 We see you from beside the stream, 



We watch the clouds go drifting by, 

 To leave you in a silver gleam. 



We watch the merry sunbeams fall 

 Along the long grey roof, and pass 



From point to point and wall to wall, 

 To dance upon the shining grass. 



You touch the land, you meet the sky, 

 In you both heaven and earth may greet 



Each other, see the cross on high 

 Has cast its shadow at my feet. 



The emerald carpet at your base, 

 Where mighty elms their branches spread. 



Reflects the smile of heaven's fair face. 

 When all is brightness overhead. 



