Lo! where yonder ruin's bending
'Neath its mighty weight of years;
E'en the boy the cattle tending
In its shade to slumber fears.

Yet it hath not always trembled
When the merry breezes blew,
Once within its walls assembled
Gallant knights and ladies true.

Once the noble lord, its master,
Paced in state along its halls, —
Smiled with joy at each pilaster,
Proudly viewed its shield-decked walls.

Many ages he could number
Of his sires that went before,
'Neath his feet he saw them slumber
When he paced the chapel floor.

But at last with envy viewed it
Time, who holds the world in sway;
His resistless arm subdued it,
And it sank into decay.

When at length its glory faded,
When the winds around it blew,
By its massy columns shaded
At its foot the Ivy grew.

Still beneath the years it crumbled,
All it suffered none can tell,
And the gentle Ivy grumbled
As its old protector fell.

" Good old Ruin! Thou hast hid me
From the bitter piercing blast;
I have loved thee, — never chid thee,
Wilt thou leave me now at last?

Can I in thy weakness aid thee?
Thanks to thee my roots are strong.
I could almost now upbraid thee,
We must live together long. "

Then the Ivy upward springing,
Round the ruin spread its arms,
To its old friend lightly clinging,
Whispering hushed his vain alarms.

And the hoary Ruin brightened,
In the grateful plant's embrace;
Felt its weary burden lightened,
And a smile lit up its face.

Thus to-day they stand together
Neath the blast together shake,
And the ruin 'gainst the weather
Struggles for the Ivy's sake.