SOUTHAMPTON CASTLE. INSCRIBED TO THE MARQUIS OF LANSDOWNE. William Lisle Bowles Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
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Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. Bowles, William Lisle, 1762-1850. The Poetical Works of William Lisle Bowles, Vol. I. With Memoir, Critical Dissertation, and Explanatory Notes by George Gilfillan. Edinburgh James Nichol, 9 North Bank Street... 1855 pp. 164-166.

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SOUTHAMPTON CASTLE . Southampton Castle is a magnificent pile , erected by the Marquis of Lansdowne , commanding the most striking views of the river , the Isle of Wight , the New Forest , et etc. INSCRIBED TO THE MARQUIS OF LANSDOWNE . The moonlight is without ; and I could lose An hour to gaze , though Taste and Splendour here , As in a lustrous fairy palace , reign ! Regardless of the lights that blaze within , I look upon the wide and silent sea , That in the shadowy moonbeam sleeps : How still , Nor heard to murmur , or to move , it lies ; Shining in Fancy's eye , like the soft gleam , The eve of pleasant yesterdays ! The clouds Have all sunk westward , and the host of stars Seem in their watches set , as gazing on ; While night's fair empress , sole and beautiful , Holds her illustrious course through the mid heavens Supreme , the spectacle , for such she looks , Of gazing worlds ! How different is the scene That lies beneath this arched window's height ! The town , that murmured through the busy day , Is hushed ; the roofs one solemn breadth of shade Veils ; but the towers , and taper spires above , The pinnets , and the gray embattled walls , And masts that throng around the southern pier , Shine all distinct in light ; and mark , remote , O'er yonder elms , St Mary's modest fane . Oh ! if such views may please , to me they shine How more attractive ! but few years have passed , Since there I saw youth , health , and happiness , All circling round an aged sire , Late Dean of Winchester , Dr Newton Ogle . whose hairs Are now in peace gone down ; he was to me A friend , and almost with a father's smile Hung o'er my infant Muse . The cheerful voice Of fellowship , the song of harmony , And mirth , and wit , I speak this of Mr Sheridan , who was often of the party . were there . That scene is passed : Cold death and separation have dissolved The evening circle of once-happy friends ! So has it ever fared , and so must fare , With all ! I see the moonlight watery tract That shines far off , beneath the forest-shades : What seems it , but the mirror of that tide , Which noiseless , ' mid the changes of the world , Holds its inevitable course , the tide Of years departing ; to the distant eye Still seeming motionless , though hurrying on From morn till midnight , bearing , as it flows , The sails of pleasurable barks ! These gleam To-day , to-morrow other passing sails Catch the like sunshine of the vernal morn . Our pleasant days are as the moon's brief light On the pale ripple , passing as it shines ! But shall the pensive bard for this lament , Who knows how transitory are all worlds Before His eye who made them ! Cease the strain ; And welcome still the social intercourse That soothes the world's loud jarring , till the hour When , universal darkness wrapping all This nether scene , a light from heaven shall stream Through clouds dividing , and a voice be heard : Here only pure and lasting bliss is found !