St. Bototlph's Town! Hither across the plains
       &nbsp And fens of Lincolnshire, in garb austere,
       &nbsp There came a Saxon monk, and founded here
       &nbsp A Priory, pillaged by marauding Danes,
So that thereof no vestige now remains;
       &nbsp Only a name, that, spoken loud and clear,
       &nbsp And echoed in another hemisphere,
       &nbsp Survives the sculptured walls and painted panes.
St. Botolph's Town! Far over leagues of land
       &nbsp And leagues of sea looks forth its noble tower,
       &nbsp And far around the chiming bells are heard;
So may that sacred name forever stand
       &nbsp A landmark, and a symbol of the power,
       &nbsp That lies concentred in a single word.