Composed at Neidpath Castle, the Property of Lord Queensberry
William Wordsworth, 1807

1803.

     Degenerate Douglas! O the unworthy lord!
     Whom mere despite of heart could so far please
     And love of havoc (for with such disease
     Fame taxes him) that he could send forth word

     To level with the dust a noble horde,
     A brotherhood of venerable trees,
     Leaving an ancient dome, and towers like these
     Beggar'd and outraged!--Many hearts deplored

     The fate of those old trees; and oft with pain
     The traveller at this day will stop and gaze
     On wrongs, which Nature scarcely seems to heed:

     For shelter'd places, bosoms, nooks, and bays,
     And the pure mountains, and the gentle Tweed,
     And the green silent pastures, yet remain.