AGE.
I recollect of a ruin, old, forsaken,
Where the wind whistles through the broken wall,
Whose rafters by the angry blast are shaken,
Whose columns totter, looking soon to fall.
Its casements rattle in the breeze of even;
Its time-stained panes let in no cheering ray;
Upon its walls the blessed light of heaven
Looks dim and melancholy all the day.
Where the wind whistles through the broken wall,
Whose rafters by the angry blast are shaken,
Whose columns totter, looking soon to fall.
Its casements rattle in the breeze of even;
Its time-stained panes let in no cheering ray;
Upon its walls the blessed light of heaven
Looks dim and melancholy all the day.
Within its courts the poisonous night-shade springeth,
And seems to look on all around in hate;
Upon its rude and mouldering turret singe th
The gloomy night-bird to its trembling mate.
And on its bare, disfigured walls no mirror
Reflects the images of things long past;
Dismay, and Desolation, Doubt and Terror,
Are its inhabitants, alone, at last.
And seems to look on all around in hate;
Upon its rude and mouldering turret singe th
The gloomy night-bird to its trembling mate.
And on its bare, disfigured walls no mirror
Reflects the images of things long past;
Dismay, and Desolation, Doubt and Terror,
Are its inhabitants, alone, at last.
Along the garden- walks some little flower
May bloom perchance, and all unnoticed die;
With glass in hand, upon the highest tower
Sits old Experience, with his haggard eye:
May bloom perchance, and all unnoticed die;
With glass in hand, upon the highest tower
Sits old Experience, with his haggard eye:
