Impromptu Poem by Frances Anne Kemble

Written among the Ruins of the Sonnenberg


Thou who within thyself dost not behold
Ruins as great as these, though not as old,
Canst scarce through life have travelled many a year,
Or lack'st the spirit of a pilgrim here.
Youth hath its walls of strength, its towers of pride,
Love, its warm hearth-stones, hope, its prospects wide,
Life's fortress in thee, held these one and all,
And they have fallen to ruin, or shall fall.