Classic and Contemporary Poetry
ODE TO LUDLOW CASTLE, by LUCY AIKEN Poet's Biography First Line: Proud pile! That rearest thy hoary head Last Line: The remnant of the storm. Alternate Author Name(s): Aikin, Lucy Subject(s): Castles; Ludlow, England; Ruins | ||||||||
PROUD pile! that rearest thy hoary head In ruin vast, in silence dread, Over Teme's luxuriant vale, Thy moss-grown halls, thy precincts drear, To musing Fancy's pensive ear Unfold a varied tale. When Terror stalked the prostrate land With savage Cambria's ruthless band, Beneath thy frowning shade, Mixt with the grazers of the plain, The plundered, helpless, peasant train In sacred ward were laid. From yon high tower the archer drew With steady hand the twanging yew, While, fierce in martial state, The mailed host in long array, With crested helms and banners gay, Burst from the thundering gate. In happier times, how brightly blazed The hearth with ponderous billets raised, How rung the vaulted halls, When smoked the feast, when care was drowned, When songs and social glee went round -- Where now the ivy crawls! 'Tis past! the marcher's princely court, The strength of war, the gay resort, In mouldering silence sleeps; And over the solitary scene While Nature hangs her garlands green, Neglected Memory weeps. The Muse too weeps: -- in hallowed hour Here sacred Milton owned her power, And woke to nobler song; The wizard's baffled wiles essayed, Here first the pure majestic maid Subdued the enraptured throng. But see! beneath yon shattered roof What mouldy cavern, sun-beam proof, With mouth of horror yawns ? O sight of grief! O ruthless doom! On that deep dungeon's solid gloom Nor hope nor daylight dawns. Yet there, at midnight's sleepless hour, While boisterous revels shook the tower, Bedewed with damps forlorn, The warrior-captive pressed the stones, And lonely breathed unheeded moans, Despairing of the morn. That too is past: unsparing Time, Stern miner of the tower sublime, Its night of ages broke; Freedom and Peace with radiant smile Now carol over the dungeon vile That cumbrous ruins choke. Proud relic of the mighty dead! Be mine with shuddering awe to tread Thy roofless, weedy hall; And mark, with fancy's kindling eye, The steel-clad ages gliding by Thy feudal pomp recall. Peace to thy stern heroic age! No stroke of wild unhallowed rage Assail thy tottering form! We love, when smiles returning day, In cloudy distance to survey The remnant of the storm. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VIGNETTES OVERSEAS: 6. RUINS OF PAESTUM by SARA TEASDALE WHERE A ROMAN VILLA STOOD, ABOVE FREIBURG' by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE THE RAVAGED VILLA by HERMAN MELVILLE HYMN AMONG THE RUINS by OCTAVIO PAZ OZYMANDIAS by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY RUINS OF CORINTH by ANTIPATER OF SIDON THE RUINS OF CORINTH by ANTIPATER OF SIDON DIRGE FOR THE LATE JAMES CURRIE, M.D., OF LIVERPOOL by LUCY AIKEN |
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