In silent joy, on tower and battlement,
When all thy time-worn glories met my sight;
Thou have I felt such rapture, such delight,
That, had the splendour of thy days of yore
Flashed on my view, I had not loved thee more!
Scene of immortal deeds! thy walls have rung
To pealing shouts from many a warrior's tongue;
When first thy founder, Redwald of the spear,
Manned thy high towers, defied his foemen near,
When, girt with strength, East-Anglia's king of old,