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Poem by William Lisle Bowles


Netley Abbey


Fallen pile! I ask not what has been thy fate;
But when the winds, slow wafted from the main,
Through each rent arch, like spirits that complain,
Come hollow to my ear, I meditate
On this world's passing pageant, and the lot
Of those who once majestic in their prime
Stood smiling at decay, till bowed by time
Or injury, their early boast forgot,
They may have fallen like thee! Pale and forlorn,
Their brow, besprent with thin hairs, white as snow,
They lift, still unsubdued, as they would scorn
This short-lived scene of vanity and woe;
Whilst on their sad looks smilingly they bear
The trace of creeping age, and the pale hue of care!



William Lisle Bowles

Poem Theme: Abbeys

William Lisle Bowles's other poems:
  1. On the Funeral of Charles the First at Night, in St. GeorgeТs Chapel, Windsor
  2. Restoration of Malmesbury Abbey
  3. Elegy Written at the Hot-Wells, Bristol
  4. Sonnet 3. O thou, whose stern command and precepts pure
  5. Banwell Hill


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