BY Bothwell Castle's ruin'd towers, And lonely 'mang yon woody bow'rs, There Clutha fondly winds around, As loath to leave the hallow'd ground. But where are now the martial throng? The festive board, the midnight song? The ivy binds the mould'ring walls, And ruin reigns in Bothwell halls. O deep and long have slumber'd now, The cares that knit the soldier's brow; The lover's grace, the manly pow'r, In gilded hall, and lady's bow'r; The smiles that fell from Beauty's eye, The broken heart, the bitter sigh; And deadly feuds have pass'd away: Still, thou art noble in decay. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A NOCTURNAL REVERIE by ANNE FINCH THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS (A CAT'S TALE, WITH ADDITIONS) by ELIZA LEE CABOT FOLLEN IN THE STILLNESS O' THE NIGHT by WILLIAM BARNES THE WILD HORSE by MARY ANN BROWNE THE RING AND THE BOOK: BOOK 10. THE POPE by ROBERT BROWNING |