English Poetry. William Lisle Bowles. Netley Abbey. Уильям Лайл Боулз.

William Lisle Bowles (Уильям Лайл Боулз)

Netley Abbey

Fallen pile! I ask not what has been thy fate;
But when the winds, slow wafted from the main,
Through each rent arch, like spirits that complain,
Come hollow to my ear, I meditate
On this world's passing pageant, and the lot
Of those who once majestic in their prime
Stood smiling at decay, till bowed by time
Or injury, their early boast forgot,
They may have fallen like thee! Pale and forlorn,
Their brow, besprent with thin hairs, white as snow,
They lift, still unsubdued, as they would scorn
This short-lived scene of vanity and woe;
Whilst on their sad looks smilingly they bear
The trace of creeping age, and the pale hue of care!

William Lisle Bowles’s other poems:

1. Sonnet 11. Written at Ostend
2. Elegy Written at the Hot-Wells, Bristol
3. Sonnet 13. O Time!
4. Sonnet 5. To the River Tweed
5. In Youth

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