The rolling of triumphant wheels,
The harpings in the hall,
The far off shout of multitudes,
Are in thy rise and fall.
"Thou art come from kingly tombs and shrines,
From ancient minsters vast,
Through the dark aisles of a thousand years
Thy lonely wing hath passed;
Thou hast caught the anthem's billowy swell,
The stately dirge's tone;