The works of Lord Byron A new, revised and enlarged edition, with illustrations. Edited by Ernest Hartley Coleridge and R. E. Prothero |
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 | The works of Lord Byron |  |
NEWSTEAD ABBEY.
1
In the dome of my Sires as the clear moonbeam fallsThrough Silence and Shade o'er its desolate walls,
It shines from afar like the glories of old;
It gilds, but it warms not—'tis dazzling, but cold.
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Let the Sunbeam be bright for the younger of days:'Tis the light that should shine on a race that decays,
When the Stars are on high and the dews on the ground,
And the long shadow lingers the ruin around.
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And the step that o'erechoes the gray floor of stoneFalls sullenly now, for 'tis only my own;
And sunk are the voices that sounded in mirth,
And empty the goblet, and dreary the hearth.
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And vain was each effort to raise and recallThe brightness of old to illumine our Hall;
And vain was the hope to avert our decline,
And the fate of my fathers had faded to mine.
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And theirs was the wealth and the fulness of Fame,And mine to inherit too haughty a name;
And theirs were the times and the triumphs of yore,
And mine to regret, but renew them no more.
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And Ruin is fixed on my tower and my wall,Too hoary to fade, and too massy to fall;
It tells not of Time's or the tempest's decay,
But the wreck of the line that have held it in sway.
August 26, 1811.
| The works of Lord Byron | |