St. Botolph's Town! Hither across the plains And fens of Lincolnshire, in garb austere, There came a Saxon monk, and founded here A Priory, pillaged by marauding Danes, So that thereof no vestige now remains; Only a name, that, spoken loud and clear, And echoed in another hemisphere, Survives the sculptured walls and painted panes. St. Botolph's Town! Far over leagues of land And leagues of sea looks forth its noble tower, And far around the chiming bells are heard; So may that sacred name forever stand A landmark, and a symbol of the power, That lies concentred in a single word. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A VOICE FROM THE SWEAT-SHOPS (A HYMN WITH RESPONSES) by LOUIS UNTERMEYER BABY BELL by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH OLD AND YOUNG by FRANCIS WILLIAM BOURDILLON GHOST FLOWERS by ALTA SMITH BOYD FAIRY RING by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN THE ISLAND by AUDREY ALEXANDRA BROWN HELIOS HYPERIONIDES by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON THE WANDERER: 6. PALINGENSIS: A PRAYER by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |