The Chimes, the chimes of Motherland,
Of England green and old,
That out from fane and ivied tower
A thousand years have tolled;
How glorious must their music be
As breaks the hallowed day,
And calleth with a seraph’s voice
...
Arthur Cleveland Coxe
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We gazed on Corryvrekin’s whirl,
We sailed by Jura’s shore,
Where sang of old the mermaid-girl,
Whose shell is heard no more;
We came to Fingal’s pillared cave,
That minster in the sea,
And sang—while clapped its hands the wave
And...