Princes have persecuted me without a cause: but my heart standeth in awe of thy word.—Psalm cxix. 161.

’T is dreadful!

How reverend is the place of this tall pile,

Whose ancient pillars rear their marble heads,

To bear aloft the arched and pond’rous roof,

By its own weight made steadfast and immoveable!

Looking tranquillity; it strikes an awe

And terror to my aching sight. The tombs

And monumental caves of death look cold,

And shoot a chillness to my trembling heart.