Spiry

In theſe lone walls (their days eternal bound) / Theſe moſs-grown domes with ſpiry turrets crown'd, / Where awful arches make a noon-day night, / And the dim windows ſhed a ſolemn light; / Thy eyes diffus'd a reconciling ray, / And gleams of glory brighten'd all the day.

But the calmest region is the upland, where human life is spread out beneath the bodily eye, where the mind roves from the peasant's nest to the spiry town, from the school-house to the churchyard, […]

Hid in the ſpiry volumes of the ſnake, / I lurk'd within the covert of a Brake; / Not yet deſcry'd.