THE MARKET CROSS
... Oh, spare the Market Cross, Our fathers placed it there Ye cannot count its loss- The ancient emblem spare. Hurt not its rustic pedestal, - Do its rude shaft no harin Break not inl ruthless sacrilege Its ever outstretceiu arin. Its steps ase angels' ladders- Its shaft tow'rd heaven doth shev, Its aries ext ended tell of love To all the crowds belowe To all the crnwds belowr- To rich as well as ...