And history pale
Before scenes, men, and things, long forgotten, and cast
By the ocean of time on the shores of the past,
Shall the halo of genius hover around,
And the street christened Fleet shall be classical ground.
But a pace, and we face
St. Bride’s tower of grace
’Neath whose shadow reposeth the gentle Lovelace
He who sang sweet and clear
Of Althea, his dear