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Building a cathedral today would need the most eminent architect, The largest factory of precast concrete, The most enormous collection of earth movers, The biggest bo dy of itinerant workers, And an extraordinary meeting of bankers. The Mediaeval equivalent, Perhaps based on a full sided working model, Called for generations of craftsmen To lay the line of towers and spires. The Egyptians used slightly different methods To elevate their geodetic gods. But earlier, without the use of axled wheels, Pulleys, and countless slaves, Where only the occasional footpath Interfered with the natural order, The greatest of architects Sought out the oldest of materials, And with a handfuls of clear minded, Straight thinking, gentle people, Built the mother of all churches. Not closed to the sky In need of stained glass and candles, No doors with bolts, Nor sextons keeping watch, Nor bell to call the faithfull For the faithfull are always here, The very fabric smoothed by their hands, Their love lighting every corner, The sun the coloured glass, The moon the only candle. |