At Furness Abbey

Here, where, of havoc tired and rash undoing,

Man left this Structure to become Time's prey

A soothing spirit follows in the way

That Nature takes, her counter-work pursuing.

See how her Ivy clasps the sacred Ruin

Fall to prevent or beautify decay;

And, on the mouldered walls, how bright, how gay,

The flowers in pearly dews their bloom renewing!

Thanks to the place, blessings upon the hour;

Even as I speak the rising Sun's first smile

Gleams on the grass-crowned top of yon tall Tower

Whose cawing occupants with joy proclaim

Prescriptive title to the shattered pile

Where, Cavendish, 'thine' seems nothing but a name!