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Poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon


Fountains Abbey


NEVER more, when the day is o'er,
Will the lonely vespers sound;
No bells are ringingno monks are singing,
When the moonlight falls around.

A few pale flowers, which in other hours
May have cheered the dreary mood;
When the votary turned to the world he had spurned,
And repined at the solitude.

Still do they blow 'mid the ruins below,
For fallen are fane and shrine,
And the moss has grown o'er the sculptured stone
Of an altar no more divine.

Still on the walls where the sunshine falls,
The ancient fruit-tree grows;
And o'er tablet and tomb, extends the bloom
Of many a wilding rose.

Fair though they be, yet they seemed to me
To mock the wreck below;
For mighty the tower, where the fragile flower
May now as in triumph blow.

Oh, foolish the thought, that my fancy brought;
More true and more wise to say,
That still thus doth spring, some gentle thing,
With its beauty to cheer decay.



Letitia Elizabeth Landon


Letitia Elizabeth Landon's other poems:
  1. Curtius
  2. Ideal Likenesses. Ariadne
  3. The Missionarys Wife
  4. Windleshaw Abbey, or, The Funeral
  5. Sassoor, in the Deccan, or, Thoughts of Christmas-Day in India


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Ebenezer Elliott Fountains Abbey ("ABBEY! forever smiling pensively")
  • Anonymous Fountains Abbey ("ALAS, alas! those ancient towers")

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