<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=116716" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On Leaving Newstead Abbey</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'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 desert comes: it howls in thy empty court.' -OSSIAN.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Through thy battlements, Newstead, the hollow winds whistle;<br>Thou, the hall of my fathers, art gone to decay;<br>In thy once smiling garden, the hemlock and thistle<br>Have choked up the rose which late bloom'd in the way.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of the mail-cover'd Barons, who proudly to battle<br>Led their vassals from Europe to Palestine's plain,<br>The escutcheon and shield, which with every blast rattle,<br>Are the only sad vestiges now that remain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No more doth old Robert, with harp-stringing numbers,<br>Raise a flame in the breast for the war-laurell'd wreath;<br>Near Askalon's towers, John of Horistan slumbers,<br>Unnerved is the hand of his minstrel by death.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Paul and Hubert, too, sleep in the valley of Cressy;<br>For the safety of Edward and England they fell:<br>My Fathers! the tears of your country redress ye;<br>How you fought, how you died, still her annals can tell.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">On Marston, with Rupert, 'gainst traitors contending,<br>Four brothers enrich'd with their blood the bleak field;<br>For the rights of a monarch their country defending,<br>Till death their attachment to royalty seal'd.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Shades of heroes, farewell! your descendant, departing<br>From the seat of his ancestors, bids you adieu!<br>Abroad, or at home, your remembrance imparting<br>New courage, he'll think upon glory and you.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though a tear dim his eye at this sad separation,<br>'Tis nature, not fear, that excites his regret;<br>Far distant he goes, with the same emulation,<br>The fame of his fathers he ne'er can forget.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That fame, and that memory, still will he cherish;<br>He vows that he ne'er will disgrace your renown:<br>Like you will he live, or like you will he perish;<br>When decay'd, may he mingle his dust with your own!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Byron">Byron</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=116716" data-title="On Leaving Newstead Abbey de Byron" data-description="'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 desert comes: it howls in thy empty court.' -OSSIAN.//Through thy battlements, Newstead, the hollow winds whistle;/Tho..."></div> </div> </div>

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