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(From Madoc in Wales)
AT length we came | |
| Where the great river, amid shoals and banks | |
| And islands, growth of its own gathering spoils, | |
| Through many a branching channel, wide and full, | |
| Rushed to the main. The gale was strong; and safe, | 5 |
| Amid the uproar of conflicting tides, | |
| Our gallant vessels rode. A stream as broad | |
| And turbid, when it leaves the Land of Hills, | |
| Old Severn rolls; but banks so fair as these | |
| Old Severn views not in his Land of Hills, | 10 |
| Nor even where his turbid waters swell | |
And sully the salt sea.
So we sailed on | |
| By shores now covered with impervious woods, | |
| Now stretching wide and low, a reedy waste, | |
| And now through vales where earth profusely poured | 15 |
| Her treasures, gathered from the first of days. | |
| Sometimes a savage tribe would welcome us, | |
| By wonder from their lethargy of life | |
| Awakened; then again we voyaged on | |
| Through tracts all desolate, for days and days, | 20 |
| League after league, one green and fertile mead, | |
That fed a thousand herds.
A different scene | |
| Rose on our view, of mount on mountain piled, | |
| Which when I see again in memory, | |
| Star-gazing Idris’s stupendous seat | 25 |
| Seems dwarfed, and Snowdon with its eagle haunts | |
| Shrinks, and is dwindled like a Saxon hill. | |
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