Ye grey and mouldering walls!—ye ivied towers!
From whence the midnight-loving bird doth pour
Her dreary note upon the solemn hour!
Ye dim arcades!—ye fancy-haunted bowers!
Ruined—but how majestic in decay!
I love thee well; and gazing thus on thee
In twilight solitude, it seems to me
A spirit voice comes stealing up this way—
The voice of vanished years—and many a tale
It tells my musing mind of gallant lords
And ladies gay—of moonlight-whispered words,
And deeds of high renown—of crimes that pale
The cheek to dream—and the malignant scowl
Of evil eyes beneath the monkish cowl.

IV.

SONNET.

Oh! I could almost weep to think that thou
Whom heaven hath moulded in a form as fair
As fancy pictures those of upper air,
Shouldst thus belie the promise of that brow
Where truth seems to repose, pure as its snow.
Alas! that treachery should lurk beneath
Such smiles!—a hidden serpent in a wreath
Of Eden flowers!—what art thou, wouldst thou know?
In all thy pride of charms?—A living tomb
Of buried hopes—the grave of ruined hearts
Which trusted, loved thee,—dreaming not that arts
Which taught the soul excess of bliss, would doom
The worshipper to—no! not Death, but worse—
And yet thou art too fair a thing to curse.


LIONEL GRANBY.

CHAP. VI.