Lighted the cheek of lean captivity
With a pale and sickly glare, then freely shone
On the pure smiles of infant playfulness.
No more the shuddering voice of hoarse despair
Pealed through the echoing vaults, but soothing notes
Of joy fingered winds and gladsome birds
And merriment were resonant around.”
Such were our feelings as we wandered musing and admiring amid the stupendous ruins of this once magnificent fabric.
“Now Time his dusky pennons o’er the scene,
Closes in stedfast darkness.”