 | Poetical Works of Robert Bridges excluding the eight dramas |  |
11
THE RUIN
These grey stones have rung with mirth and lordly carousel;
Here proud kings mingled poetry and ruddy wine.
All hath pass'd long ago; nought but this ruin abideth,
Sadly in eyeless trance gazing upon the river.
Wouldst thou know who here visiteth, dwelleth and singeth also,
Ask the swallows flying from sunny-wall'd Italy.
| Poetical Works of Robert Bridges excluding the eight dramas | |