 | Dartmoor, and other poems |  |
84
LINES ON RE-VISITING THE SAME ARBOUR.
Is this the arbour, this the place,
Which twenty years ago I view'd;
And left upon its walls some trace
Inspired by thoughtful solitude?
Which twenty years ago I view'd;
And left upon its walls some trace
Inspired by thoughtful solitude?
Is this domain the magic region
Which oft in youth I paused to bless;
And deem'd the rose-encircled dwelling,
The home of earthly happiness?
Which oft in youth I paused to bless;
And deem'd the rose-encircled dwelling,
The home of earthly happiness?
The lays which friendship strew'd are vanish'd,
The flowers are dead, the walls decay'd;
And on this spot, most spots excelling,
Her wasting hand hath ruin laid!
The flowers are dead, the walls decay'd;
And on this spot, most spots excelling,
Her wasting hand hath ruin laid!
85
The garden now hath lost its beauty,
The orchard near its dainty store:
The thistle triumphs o'er the lily,
And all that charm'd, now charms no more!
The orchard near its dainty store:
The thistle triumphs o'er the lily,
And all that charm'd, now charms no more!
Shall I again yon mansion enter,
Where smiles so oft the welcome told?
Ah, no! its hospitable owner
These eyes must never more behold!
Where smiles so oft the welcome told?
Ah, no! its hospitable owner
These eyes must never more behold!
The loveliest form of human nature,
There ran her angel-like career;
But she hath pass'd to joys unfading,
And fragrant is her memory here!
There ran her angel-like career;
But she hath pass'd to joys unfading,
And fragrant is her memory here!
My soul! receive the solemn warning!
Gird up thy loins! Prepare to go!
Friend follows friend in quick succession,
For resting-place hath none below!
Gird up thy loins! Prepare to go!
Friend follows friend in quick succession,
For resting-place hath none below!
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