Poems Comments

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!

Poem topics: , , ,

Rate this poem:

Add Netley Abbey poem to your favorites

Add Poet William Lisle Bowles to your favorites

Popular Poets

Louise Gluck (4 poems)
Marcus Annaeus Lucanus (5 poems)
Nizar Qabbani (1 poems)
John Skelton (3 poems)
Ann Taylor (1 poems)
Gavrila Romanovich Derzhavin (3 poems)
Laurence Binyon (2 poems)
As Sharma (0 poems)
Giles Fletcher The Elder (3 poems)
Wilfrid Wilson Gibson (4 poems)

Popular Poems

Wardour Castle, by William Lisle Bowles
The Poet, by Hermann Hesse
A Monumental Column, by John Webster
This Peach Is Pink With Such A Pink, by Norman Rowland Gale
The Pardah Nashin, by Sarojini Naidu
Fault, by Sara Teasdale
Wedding-Ring, by Denise Levertov
An Elegy On Parting, by James Thomson
A Toast, by Andrew Lang
Fusée, by Guillaume Apollinaire