Page:1808 Poems by Felicia Dorothea Browne.pdf/50

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THE RUINED CASTLE.


Oh! let me sigh to think this ruin'd pile
Was favour'd once with fortune's radiant smile;
These moss-grown battlements, these ivy'd towers,
Have seen prosperity's uncertain hours;
Their heroes triumph'd in the scenes of war,
While victory follow'd in her trophied car.
Here, where I muse in meditation's arms,
Perhaps the battle raged with loud alarms;
Here glory's crimson banner waving spread,
While laurel crowns entwin'd the victor's head;
And here, perhaps, with many a plaintive tear,
The mourner has bedew'd the soldier's bier.
The scene of conquest pensive fancy draws,
Where thousands fell, enthusiasts in their cause.