Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/41



ON LEAVING NEWSTEAD ABBEY.

Why dost thou build the hall, Son of the winged days? Thou lookest from thy tower to-day: yet a few years, and the blast of the desart comes: it howls in thy empty court.—

1.

thy battlements, Newstead, the hollow winds whistle:

Thou, the hall of my Fathers, art gone to decay;

In thy once smiling garden, the hemlock and thistle

Have choak'd up the rose, which late bloom'd in the way.