WHERE Gruyère's castle, rearing still on high Its silent halls and its untrodden stair, Looks down upon a village rude and bare, The cheerless home of hungering penury, Paining the heart of him who passeth by; A costly church, enrich'd with pious care, Amid those dwellings, echoing praise and prayer, Tells him that faith can poverty defy. Sadly I thought on many a lordly pile, Whose gilded walls unbounded wealth display, Uprear'd conspicuous in my native isle; The village church—its altar's mean array, Its font, its floor, which filth and damp defile, Alone uncared for, crumbling to decay. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ROSARY by ROBERT CAMERON ROGERS THE LOWEST PLACE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI AMORETTI: 34 by EDMUND SPENSER A MIDNIGHT MEDITATION by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN THE LITTLE OLD WOMEN by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE |