Royal and saintly Cashel! I would gaze Upon the wreck of thy departed powers Not in the dewy light of matin hours, Nor the meridian pomp of summer's blaze, But at the close of dim autumnal days, When the sun's parting glance, through slanting showers, Sheds o'er thy rock-throned battlements and towers Such awful gleams as brighten o'er Decay's Prophetic cheek. At such a time, methinks, There breathes from thy lone courts and voiceless aisles A melancholy moral; such as sinks On the lone traveller's heart amid the piles Of vast Persepolis on her mountain stand, Or Thebes half buried in the desert sand. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THERE IS NO NATURAL RELIGION (B) by WILLIAM BLAKE TO HELEN (1) by EDGAR ALLAN POE A DOUBTING HEART by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER INDIFFERENCE by GEOFFREY ANKETELL STUDDERT-KENNEDY THE SORROWS OF WERTHER by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY COMPOSED BY THE SIDE OF GRASMERE by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |