Sonett-Forum

Normale Version: Written at Bamborough Castle
Du siehst gerade eine vereinfachte Darstellung unserer Inhalte. Normale Ansicht mit richtiger Formatierung.
Ye holy towers that shade the wave-worn steep,
Long may ye rear your aged brows sublime,
Though, hurrying silent by, relentless Time
Assail you, and the winter whirlwind's sweep!

For far from blazing grandeur's crowded halls,
Here charity hath fixed her chosen seat,
Oft listening tearful when the wild winds beat,
With hollow bodings round your ancient walls;

And pity, at the dark and stormy hour
Of midnight, when the moon is hid on high,
Keeps her lone watch upon the topmost tower,

And turns her ear to each expiring cry;
Blest if her aid some fainting wretch might save,
And snatch him cold and speachless from the wave.