Bow down my soul in worship very low And in the holy silences be lost. Bow down before the marble man of woe, Bow down before the singing angel host. What jewelled glory fills my spiritís eye, What golden grandeur moves the depths of me! The soaring arches lift me up on high Taking my breath with their rare symmetry. Bow down my soul and let the wondrous light Of beauty bathe thee from her lofty throne, Bow down before the wonder of manís might. Bow down in worship, humble and alone; Bow lowly down before the sacred sight Of manís divinity alive in stone.
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