The North Transept: The Psalms I

Not to those heights where holy Herbert sits,
Or Heaven-taught Ken awakes the sounding wire,
Nor where beyond the shade of Ambrose flits
O'er sacred streams, or leaning o'er the lyre
Peace-loving Nazianzen leads the quire, —
Not to those haunts where saintly men have trod,
And hung their harps, but further yet and higher,
Where Siloa's stream, woke by th' unearthly rod,
Springs forth a fountain pure beneath the mount of God.