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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538597" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Netley Abbey</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fallen pile! I ask not what has been thy fate; <br>But when the winds, slow wafted from the main, <br>Through each rent arch, like spirits that complain, <br>Come hollow to my ear, I meditate <br>On this world's passing pageant, and the lot <br>Of those who once majestic in their prime <br>Stood smiling at decay, till bowed by time <br>Or injury, their early boast forgot, <br>They may have fallen like thee! Pale and forlorn, <br>Their brow, besprent with thin hairs, white as snow, <br>They lift, still unsubdued, as they would scorn <br>This short-lived scene of vanity and woe; <br>Whilst on their sad looks smilingly they bear <br>The trace of creeping age, and the pale hue of care!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Lisle+Bowles">William Lisle Bowles</a><div class=q>
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<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=538597" data-title="Netley Abbey de William Lisle Bowles" data-description="Fallen pile! I ask not what has been thy fate; 
But when the winds, slow wafted from the main, 
Through each rent arch, like spirits that complain, 
Come hollow to my ear, I meditate 
On this world's passing pageant, and the lot 
Of those who once..."></div>
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