III.--<g>From the Chancel</g>, westward.[182] This is justly considered to be the most imposing view in the whole abbey; and is that to which every stranger visiting the ruins is conducted at the close of his survey. The point from which it is taken, is under the area of the great tower, near the further angle of the north transept and chancel. Looking through the lofty arches that supported the central tower, it takes in the west window, the window of the north aisle, the nave, and on the right, the <g>doorway</g> leading into the cloisters--of which an engraving is here given--with the massive clustered pillars, lofty and delicately moulded arches, in which an airy lightness, combined with strength and solidity, strike the spectator with feelings of awe and admiration, to which it is hardly possible to give expression-- “Silence sublime, and stillness how profound; Yet every arch, with clustered ivy hung, And every column, as thou gazest round, Seems to address thee in thy native tongue; Telling how first these mighty structures rose, And how they fell beneath their Vandal foes.” In the centre are the two sepulchral slabs, already described in another portion of the text; and on the left, leaning against the base of one of the pillars, is a mutilated statue, supposed to be that of Roger Bigod, or Gilbert de Clare, as shown in the woodcut, page 41. In various parts of the chancel, choir, and transepts, as well as in the nave and aisles, many dilapidated fragments are collected in heaps; among which the visitor will distinguish pieces of elaborate carving, particularly some ingenious and fancifully sculptured <g>bosses</g>, the connecting ornaments of the richly-groined roof that once overhung this gorgeous temple, and echoed back the anthems of its assembled choir.