Above, about, or underneath,
Sent by some Spirit to mortals good,
Or the unseen Genius of the wood.
But let my due feet never fail 155
To walk the studious cloisters pale,
And love the high-embowèd roof
With antique pillars massy-proof,
And storied windows richly dight,
Casting a dim religious light: 160
There let the pealing organ blow,