 | The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince |  |
195
SONNET
WRITTEN IN THE CASTLE OF CAERNARVON.
How glorious is thy fall, rich summer's day!How deeply tender is thy dying hour!
Lonely I linger on this crumbling tower,
And watch with silent joy thy sweet decay.
Upon the blushing bosom of the bay
Thy last kiss trembles, and the clouds that lie
In beautiful disorder round the sky
Absorb the latest vestige of thy ray.
But now the chill of twilight doth betray
The coming of the night;—yon mountain range
Hath put the garb of darkness on;—a change
Creeps o'er the deepening waters. Who may say
How many griefs, or hopes, or dreams sublime
Awake the human soul in this mysterious time!
| The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince | |