Sonnet Written to Bouts-rimes (Amid the shades of a deserted hall)

Amid the shades of a deserted hall
I stand and think on much that hath been lost.
How long it is since other step has crost
This time-worn floor! This tapestry is all
Worm-eaten; and these columns rise up tall
Yet crumbling to decay; where banners tost
Thin spiders' webs hang now; the bitter frost
Has even killed the flowers upon the wall.
Yet once this was a home brimful of life,
Full of the hopes and fears and love of youth,
Full of love's language speaking without sound
Here honour was enshrined and kindly truth;
Hither the young lord brought his blushing wife,
And here the bridal garlands were unbound.