Excerpt from The Minster: With Some Common Flowers Picked in the CloseOwn amid the dreary marish, high and dry above the fen, Stands a venerable temple, rear'd by hands Of former men: There, in pride of station, frowning at the petty roofs below, Stand apart, it seems to say, for I am holier than thou. Many a tale is told in Ely, handed down from sire to son, How it rose from small beginning, and from age to age grew on. First a simple court a...
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