The Abbey Poem by Martin Farquhar Tupper

Never again,- till earth casts out her dead,
And teeming ocean yields her recued prey,-
A sight so full of hope, delight, and dread,
Thrilling and grand, as met thy view this day,
Mayst thou behold: high reaching overhead
The light aerial galleries were throng'd
Sublime with multitudes, acclaiming loud;
While, far beneath, that coroneted crowd
Sat like a thousand kings; in yonder aisle
A virgin troop, azure and silver, show'd
As spirits, who to a fairy world belong'd,
Or some soft nest of doves: deeply the while
Rolled in a deluge from the golden quire
The tide of musical praise,- hail mixt with fire!
While midway throned, the brightest central gem,
Fair Sun illumining that glorious scene,
In purple robe and glittering diadem,
Majestic sat Britannia's gentle Queen!