Ensnar'd, and as a captive seiz'd,
The Istwith, by her frolics pleas'd,
With shouts of joy was borne away,
The amorous Ocean's helpless prey:
Caught by the same alluring bait,
The lovely Monach shar'd her fate.
Ill-fated Istwith! dear to Love,
In Hafod's grot, or pathless grove!
By Hafod's glowing Muse inspir'd,
Its Lord and Priest * thy charms admir'd.
In many a cave by him pursued,
With taste entranc'd, with hope renew'd,
The Rhyddol binds thee to her chain,
And mountain-shrieks are heard in vain.
Yet such is Beauty's vary'd
vary'd power,
That not alone her polish'd bower,
But features wild, and manners rude,
With her attractions are endued:
We pant for charms, to errors blind,
Catch at the form, and veil the mind.
SWANSEA BAY.-To AMORET.
You ask me "Where the tortur'd heart
Has learnt from all its griefs to part;"
The little prompter seems to say,
"Do tell her, it's at Swansea Bay."
The roaring waves that strike the beach.
Through midnight gales their audience reach,
The silver moon adorns their spray,
And sheds her pearls on Swansea Bay.
*The late truly benevolent Mr. Johnes, owner of the celebrated Hafod, and whose taste in the conduct of its beauties cannot be enough admired.
When morn returns, the solar beam
More brilliant makes the radiant stream,
And gilds the lovely forms that play
In frolic dance at Swansea Bay.
The vary'd sail, from ship to boat,
The distant hamlet's whiten'd coat,
The islands that with Love's delay
Seem to look back on Swansea Bay.
The giant-hill, whose ample steep
And striding pillars guard the deep,
The farm that smiles with corn and hay,
and hope at Swansea Bay.
The polish'd and accomplish'd fair,
The rustic with her flowing hair,
The silken hose, with lustre gay,
Or naked feet, at Swansea Bay.
The sea-born Queen, in forms like these,
Attir'd or undress'd can please,
For Beauty, with impartial sway,
Unites all ranks at Swansea Bay.
INSCRIPTION AT THE COTTAGE NEAR LLANGOLLEN, in the Names of Lady E. BUTLER and Miss PONSONBY.
To Science consecrating leisure,
And life to soothing Friendship's pleasure,
The world forgetting, by the world forgot. These are the enviable days
The heart's-a better gift than praise:
'Tis cherish'd here, and we divide the lot.
I LOVE thy castles, woods, and streams, Thy mountains, and poetic dreams, The Fairy's web of thy descent, Thy unseduc'd and proud content; I pardon thy unstocking'd feet, Thy dislocating road and street, Thy potent ale's convivial uses (Preferr'd by you to Gallia's juices) :But what I never can forgive Is that you hate in peace to live.
THE Mountain is a Giant's head,
A Giant's arms around are spread,
Before him clouds obedient sail,
His feet command the distant vale;
The ruin'd arch, the nodding tower,
With awful contrast hail his power;
The roaring floods that storms impell
With loud acclaim his triumph swell.
But where is the congenial Man,
A part of this majestic plan?
In sloth immers'd, or drench'd with ale
(The morning's prayer, the night's regale),
At Mischief's call, as keen as light,
His tongue to rail, his arms to fight;
But foe to enterprizing merit,
And stung by genius, truth, or spirit,
Inflam'd with Passion's brutal fire
To mad revenge, or fierce desire,
Of appetite he makes his throne,
Alike to rape and murder prone,
And, while the Law his actions brave,
The savage will's distemper'd slave.
Oh, give me upon Sarum's plain
The humble scene, but Man to reign;
The Waste as abject as you will,
If Man the Giant's part can fill.
BEAUTIES OF A TOUR IN WALES, 1802.
With insolent conceit of taste,
I swore on Briton Ferry's hill,
"No other charms my love should waste,
Enchantment there its cup should fill."
But soon the Nymphs of Dinevawr †
Around me danc'd with Beauty's chain,
Commenc'd the Rival's jealous war,
And bound me to their smiling reign.
Then Hafod's Muse entranc'd my love,
Secluded in her arms I lay,
Explor'd with her the pathless grove,
And caught her glittering vision's ray.
But Gressford Loves the heart have bound:
Endearment there is Beauty's pride;
Grace with a Shepherd's wreath is crown'd,
And Fancy's wand is Nature's guide.
* Lord Vernon's beautiful seat in the County of Glamorgan. ↑ Lord Dinevor's admired scenery in Carmarthenshire.
Mr. Johnes's Paradise in Cardiganshire.
§ Gressford Lodge, in Denbighshire, is the lovely seat and scene of Mrs. Parry, a very accomplished and pleasing Widow.
The Pilgrims here shall rest their feet,
The labour of their love endear;
Nor more shall Realms their fancy cheat:
The Temple's found, the worship's here†.
KENELWORTH CASTLE;
where EDWARD THE SECOND was imprisoned by his QUEEN, and her Gallant, MORTIMER.
eye that beauty in the landscape views May catch from life the Painter's glowing hues; But cold the charm that Claude or Gaspar find, If to the moral picture we are blind.
In many a scene, thus view'd, a local tale
Bids Time on his inverted pinion sail;
And, of past ages by a charm possess'd,
The moralizing vision can arrest.
In this majestic range are themes combin'd,
That glance on the reflecting Poet's mind;
The forms appear— the living shadows play,
As if the ruins breath'd in their decay.
Ill-fated Edward, in these Towers immur'd,
The chain of Treason's conquering guilt endur'd!
A Rebel's Captive, and, bereft of light,
Fear'd the new day, and yet accus'd the night.
Oh, had he sunk, and clos'd his torments here,
When Berkeley's roof had yet no shrieks to fear;
Before the lust of sway had struck at life,
And brav'd the tortur'd Victim's baffled strife!
* Myself and my Nephew, Captain Hardinge.
†This points at the Catholic Pilgrimage to the Lady of Lorette.
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