BY Bothwell Castle's ruin'd towers, And lonely 'mang yon woody bow'rs, There Clutha fondly winds around, As loath to leave the hallow'd ground. But where are now the martial throng? The festive board, the midnight song? The ivy binds the mould'ring walls, And ruin reigns in Bothwell halls. O deep and long have slumber'd now, The cares that knit the soldier's brow; The lover's grace, the manly pow'r, In gilded hall, and lady's bow'r; The smiles that fell from Beauty's eye, The broken heart, the bitter sigh; And deadly feuds have pass'd away: Still, thou art noble in decay. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WANDERER: 2. IN FRANCE: THE PORTRAIT by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON FRANCE: AN ODE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE ELEGY: 11. THE BRACELET; UPON THE LOSS OF HIS MISTRESS'S CHAIN by JOHN DONNE THE GLOVE AND THE LIONS by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT DANNY DEEVER by RUDYARD KIPLING AN APRIL MORNING by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |