of the noble bard recur to the mind on
surveying these apartments, still magnificent, yet neglected, and slowly
and surely falling into ruin--

For many a gilded chamber's here,
Which solitude might well forbear,
Within this dome, ere yet decay
Hath slowly worked her cankering way.

I ran up the circular staircase, and entered the noble state bedroom. The
enormous plate glasses still remain; the ceiling is of carved oak
relieved by gold ornaments. With what emotion did I turn through the
narrow gallery, leading to the state room, to the tribune, which looked
into the great octagon. A lofty door was at the extremity. I attempted
to open it; it yielded to the pressure, and I stood on the very balcony
that looked into the octagon.

Here the whole scene of desolation is surveyed at a glance. How deep
were my feelings of regret at the destruction of the loftiest domestic
apartment in the world. Twenty years ago this glorious place was in all
its splendour. High in the air are still seen two round windows that
once lighted the highest bedrooms in the world. What an extraordinary
idea! On this lofty hill, 120 feet from the ground, were four bedrooms.
Below these round windows are the windows of two of the chambers called
nunneries. Landing on this balcony I quickly conjured up a vision of
former glory. There were the lofty windows gleaming with purple and
gold, producing an atmosphere of harmonious light peculiar to this place,
the brilliant sunshine covering everything within its influence with
yellow quatrefoils. From that pointed arch once descended draperies 50
feet long! The very framework of these vast windows was covered with
gold. There was the lovely gallery opening to the nunneries, through
whose arches ceilings were discovered glittering with gold, and walls
covered with pictures. Exactly opposite was another tribune similar to
this; below it the immense doors of St. Michael's Gallery, whose crimson
carpet, thickly strewed with white roses; was seen from this place,
whilst far, far above, at an elevation of 130 feet, was seen the lofty
dome, its walls pierced with eight tall windows, and even these were
painted and their frames gilded. The crimson list to exclude draught
still remained on these folding doors, but the lock was torn off! I
closed the doors, not without a feeling of sadness, and returning to the
small gallery again ran up the Lancaster Gallery to another noble
bedroom.