The chanting in the cloister

The pealing of the bell,

As sure as God’s in Gloucester

So all with Gloucester’s well.

 

It’s said that God in Heaven

Benignly chose this place

This city by the Severn

To domicile his grace.

 

So many towers skywards tilt

As to the clouds they’ve clawed

So many seats of worship built

As Houses of The Lord.

 

The old monastic friaries

The White, the Black, the Grey

The churches and the priories

Where Gloucester knelt to pray.

 

And dominating sturdy, tall

In timeless dignity

Is Gloucester’s great cathedral

With its wealth of history.

 

The chanting in the cloister

The pealing of the bell,

As sure as God’s in Gloucester

So all with Gloucester’s well.