Long be Llandenny, and Llansoy,
Names that import a rural joy;
Known to our fathers, when May-day
Brush'd a whole twelvemonth's cares away.
Oft on the lisping infant's tongue
Reluctant information hung,
Till, from a belt of woods full grown,
Arose immense thy turrets brown,
Majestic RAGLAND! Harvests wave
Where thund'ring hosts their watch-word gave,
When cavaliers, with downcast eye,
Struck the last flag of loyalty[1]:
[Footnote 1: This castle, with a garrison commanded by the Marquis of
Worcester, was the last place of strength which held out for the
unfortunate Charles the First.]
Then, left by gallant WORC'STER'S band,
To devastation's cruel hand
The beauteous fabric bow'd, fled all
The splendid hours of festival.
No smoke ascends; the busy hum
Is heard no more; no rolling drum,
No high-ton'd clarion sounds alarms,
No banner wakes the pride of arms[A];
[Footnote A: "These magnificent ruins, including the citadel, occupy
a tract of ground not less than one-third of a mile in circumference."
"In addition to the injury the castle sustained from the parliamentary
army, considerable dilapidations have been occasioned by the numerous
tenants in the vicinity, who conveyed away the stone and other materials
for the construction of farm-houses, barns, and other buildings.
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