The high roof o’er the well-known hall,
The cordial hearth, the genial mirth—
Has Time the tyrant stilled them all!
Ay, some are fallen—their courts are green;
The cold calm sky
Looks in on many a once-loved scene
Of days gone by.
And some stand on, but their lights are gone,
Their manners are new and their masters strange;
They know no trace of that frank old race