Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/Song
Song.
Air—"I've been roaming."
Stately towers! Blissful hours
I have passed beneath your shade,
When the flowers in your bowers
Bloomed as though they ne'er could fade.
I have passed beneath your shade,
When the flowers in your bowers
Bloomed as though they ne'er could fade.
Mouldering ruin! Time is strewing
Mosses o'er thy grey-bleached head,
While the pattering leaves are scattering
Autumn's trophies o'er the dead.
Mosses o'er thy grey-bleached head,
While the pattering leaves are scattering
Autumn's trophies o'er the dead.
Falling towers! Vanished hours
Left ye old and found me young;
O'er your bowers fate now lowers,
Silence dwells your halls among.
Left ye old and found me young;
O'er your bowers fate now lowers,
Silence dwells your halls among.
Lofty towers! Kingly powers
Met your buttressed walls within;
Through your portals proudest mortals
Strode to join the battle's din.
Met your buttressed walls within;
Through your portals proudest mortals
Strode to join the battle's din.
Crumbled arches! Ruin marches
O'er your pride of carved stone;
Your foundation desolation
Chooses for her silent throne.
O'er your pride of carved stone;
Your foundation desolation
Chooses for her silent throne.
Fallen towers! Peaceful hours
Still I spend your courts among;
Rank weed flowers choke your bowers;
But each fragment has a tongue!
Still I spend your courts among;
Rank weed flowers choke your bowers;
But each fragment has a tongue!