That shoots aloft into the realms of day,
Shall be the record of the builder's fame for aye.
Thou see'st this mastery of a human hand,
The pride of Bristol, and the western land.
Yet is the builder's virtue much more great;
Greater than can by Rowley's pen be scann'd.
Thou see'st the saints and kings in stony state,
As if with breath and human soul expand.
Well may'st thou be astounded—view it well;
Go not from hence before thou see thy fill,