The long-enduring ferns in time will all
Die and depose their dust upon the wall,
Where the wing'd seed may rest, till many a flower
Show Flora's triumph o'er the falling tower.
But ours yet stands, and has its bells renown'd
For size magnificent and solemn sound.
Each has its motto: some contrived to tell,
In monkish rhyme, the uses of a bell[41]—
Such wond'rous good, as few conceive could spring
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