My Cathedral lyrics
 by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
		
		Like two cathedral towers these stately pines
          Uplift their fretted summits tipped with cones;
          The arch beneath them is not built with stones,
          Not Art but Nature traced these lovely lines,
And carved this graceful arabesque of vines;
          No organ but the wind here sighs and moans,
          No sepulchre conceals a martyr's bones.
          No marble bishop on his tomb reclines.
Enter! the pavement, carpeted with leaves,
          Gives back a softened echo to thy tread!
          Listen! the choir is singing; all the birds,
In leafy galleries beneath the eaves,
          Are singing! listen, ere the sound be fled,
          And learn there may be worship with out words.