Or how the sacred pine tree adds

To her old leaves new myriads?

Such and so grew these holy piles,

Whilst love and terror laid the tiles.

Earth proudly wears the Parthenon

As the best gem upon her zone;

And morning opes with haste her lids

To gaze upon the Pyramids;

O’er England’s Abbeys bends the sky

As on its friends with kindred eye;