Verse > William Wordsworth > Complete Poetical Works
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COMPOSED AMONG THE RUINS OF A CASTLE IN NORTH WALES

          THROUGH shattered galleries, 'mid roofless halls,
          Wandering with timid footsteps oft betrayed,
          The Stranger sighs, nor scruples to upbraid
          Old Time, though he, gentlest among the Thralls
          Of Destiny, upon these wounds hath laid
          His lenient touches, soft as light that falls,
          From the wan Moon, upon the towers and walls,
          Light deepening the profoundest sleep of shade.
          Relic of Kings! Wreck of forgotten wars,
          To winds abandoned and the prying stars,                    10
          Time 'loves' Thee! at his call the Seasons twine
          Luxuriant wreaths around thy forehead hoar;
          And, though past pomp no changes can restore,
          A soothing recompence, his gift, is thine!
                                                              1824.


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