Oh, Lincoln, City of my dreams

As far away as childhood seems Thou standest on thy Roman hill, And memory holds thee frozen, still, Engraved on steel where moonlight streams. For leagues along the landscape mild Thy towers twin the scene command, Embattlements of fairyland; Romance incarnate to a child. Though other cities cast a spell, Ever thou holdst my heart in chains; And still I hear across the plains At midnight's stroke that ancient bell Whose giant throbbing scarcely seems A mortal sound at Heaven's gate: It echoes round the exile's fate— Oh Lincoln! City of my dreams!