 | Dramas |  |
226
ON DUNSTONBURGH CASTLE.
Majestic Ruins! that so sadly speakThe glory of past days, and seem to grow
To the huge rock, high, desolate, and bleak,
That curbs the ocean tossing far below;
Shatter'd by time and war, sublime ye stand
In awful solitude!—on either side,
How vast the waste of water, or of land!
Above your head th' expanse of Heaven how wide!
Now round your hoary battlements dark frown
The threat'ning skies! while sudden from the west
The setting sun a radiant beam has thrown,
That gilds each fretted stone on your broad breast.
Touch'd by the glorious light, your turrets now
Gleam on the heavy clouds that roll away
With sullen pride,—again your deep-scarr'd brow
Smiles terrible beneath the evening ray.
227
And far more sad, my country! heaven-born Peace
Her radiance flings, that gilds thy every scar,
While backward rolling, Fate's dark tempests cease.
So smiling terrible, through nature's tears,
Fancy might paint thy veterans, with clasp'd hands,
O'er the void tombs that vain affection rears
To sons, to brothers, fallen in hostile lands;
The gallant youths, alas! thy strength, and pride,
England! who in thy cause, yet not in Freedom's died!
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