Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 2.djvu/240

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ECLOGUE VI.

THE RUINED COTTAGE.

Aye Charles! I knew that this would fix thine eye, This woodbine wreathing round the broken porch, Its leaves just withering, yet one autumn flower Still fresh and fragrant; and yon holly-hock That thro' the creeping weeds and nettles tall Peers taller, and uplifts its column'd stem Bright with the broad rose-blossoms. I have seen Many a fallen convent reverend in decay, And many a time have trod the castle courts And grass green halls, yet never did they strike Home to the heart such melancholy thoughts As this poor cottage. Look, its little hatch Fleeced with that grey and wintry moss; the roof
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