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Updated: May 13, 2025
The beauty of the carved work, with which the abbey is profusely decorated, is seldom equalled, and deservedly celebrated: "Spreading herbs and flow'rets bright, Glisten'd with the dew of night; Nor herb nor flow'ret glisten'd there, But was carved in the cloister'd arches as fair." There are in the external view of the building 50 windows, 4 doors, 54 niches, and above 50 buttresses.
Rain and sunshine giving, All His goodness prove; There is nothing living But has felt His love. "Every home's a garden, Clustering side by side, Each to others yielding, Flow'rets should abide. Word or thought of anger Ne'er should enter there; Buds of loving kindness Opening everywhere. "Every school's a garden, Hedged and fenced around; Nothing vile or useless Should within, be found.
I breathe with joy the morning hours, Let not the grave receive me! There can no pleasant sunbeams fall, No human voice come near me; There should I miss the flow'rets small, There have no friends to cheer me. Now, how to value life I know I hold it as a treasure; There is no love i' th' grave below, No music, warmth, or pleasure. On it the heavy earth is flung, The coffin-lid shuts tightly!
Wilt thou not the flow'rets bind, Smiling gently in their bed? For no garden thou wilt find On yon heights so wild and dread. "Leave the flow'rets, let them blow! Mother, mother, let me go!" And the youth then sought the chase, Onward pressed with headlong speed To the mountain's gloomiest place, Naught his progress could impede; And before him, like the wind, Swiftly flies the trembling hind!
"When the grim lion urg'd his cruel chase, When the stern panther sought his midnight prey, What fate reserv'd me for this Christian race? O race more polish'd, more severe, than they "Yet shores there are, bless'd shores for us remain, And favour'd isles, with golden fruitage crown'd, Where tufted flow'rets paint the verdant plain, And ev'ry breeze shall med'cine ev'ry wound."
In soft communion of fancy they wandered together to far lands; to: "that delightful Province of the Sun, The first of Persian lands he shines upon, Where all the loveliest children of his beam, Flow'rets and fruits, blush over every stream, And, fairest of all streams, the Murga roves Among Merou's bright palaces and groves." It was "Tom" Moore's "Lalla Rookh" that was dearest to their hearts.
Number the gnats that cloud the dewy lawn, Or flitting flies that light the sparkling corn; Or pirate hawks that haunt Rome's lawless sky, Or the fell fevers Pontine plains supply; The locust legions count; or say as soon What hoarse Cicadæ stun the sultry noon With ringing dissonance; what flow'rets fair In early spring inebriate the air: Or count the gems in every dazzling shower That Roman rockets detonating pour, Dropping their liquid light o'er Hadrian's glowing tower: Or tell what crowds on Easter-day repair To see their Pontiff-bird, in high-swung chair Upborne magnificent; when, rising slow, Th' emerging figure stands, all white as snow, Like some large albatross his arms outspreads, O'er all that mighty, silent, sea of heads!
Yet shores there are, bless'd shores for us remain, And favour'd isles, with golden fruitage crown'd, Where tufted flow'rets paint the verdant plain, And every breeze shall medicine every wound." In the year 1755, Dr. Hayter, bishop of Norwich, preached a sermon before the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, in which he bore his testimony against the continuance of this trade.
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