O Ragland, beauty as you are, Ruined arches, towers and views, Not ruined views but fine ones, Your Gothic arches and your falling towers, With keystones, moats and drawbridges,
Your mice‐house moss and burnt up grass For mice to pull and line their falling dwellings, Your spiral towers and holes for mice to live in, Your dungeons, splits
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and drawbridges, Battlements, courts, and lodges,—