Classic Poem

Bright soars the morn, in Summer's splendor drest,
And throws o'er eastern skies her ruddy vest;
Whose darting beams, with varied radiance gay,
Gild the tall cliff, and on the ocean play.

O thou, whose smiles upon the teeming earth
Can lead her latent blessings into birth,
Raise from the parent soil the infant grain,
And spread the verdant velvet o'er the plain —
Refil the rising herb with healing powers,
And Nature's varied surface deck with flowers.
Great source of light! renew thy race benign —
Refulgent on the vast creation shine!
Roll through the blue expanse thy radiant way,
And give the favor'd Muse a cloudless day.

And thou, dear inmate of the Grecian grove,
(The tuneful offspring of paternal Jove)
Recording Clio, leave the classic climes,
Where war and havoc swell the roll of crimes;
Where Mecca triumphs in a barbarous reign,
And Learning shuns the desolated plain —
Come, where the Arts illume th' alluring way,
And smiling Science feels a fostering sway;
Where Thames triumphant wafts a richer fleece,
And either world salutes the modern Greece.
Thy pinions, Muse, expand — the space explore,
Where Britain westward spreads her rocky shore,
Looks back on worthies she delights to trace,
And still reserves a remnant of her race;
Her hoary cliffs in wild confusion crowds,
And wraps their towering summits in the clouds.

Hibernia's eastern sea here Cambria laves,
And pours on either shore its restless waves,
While Menai's currents with its waters play —
Now roll to meet, or, refluent, fill the Bay;
And, circling P RIESTHOLM , shews its oval steep,
Emerging boldly from the briny deep.

When Superstition wove her wizard spell,
Here Seiriol raised the insulated cell —
Here, still importun'd, wearied Heaven with prayer,
And Britons hail'd him Heaven's peculiar care;
'Twas his to grant the blessing, or withhold,
And length of days his locks of silver told.
But since in happier times and brighter days,
Religion cheers the mind with purer rays,
Here, Muse, let liberal Pity hold the pen,
Nor rashly censure what was virtue then .

Here, still sequester'd, P ENMON'S sacred dome
Recalls to mind the inmates of the tomb,
Who rear'd with pious zeal the massy pile,
And fill'd with notes of praise the echoing aisle;
When Idwal, born of Cambria's regal race,
Beheld with guardian eye the happy place.
Alas! what is it now? the damp abode
Of slimy snails, the spider, and the toad;
Where waking owls in screaming concert call
Their prowling mates, when evening's shadows fall.

O'er ages past, the Muse looks back with pain,
Marauding chieftains, and their murdering train —
Sees Man through slaughter wade his wanton way —
(While milder tigers only kill for prey)
The village blazing, harmless Cendred fall,
And points to L LEINIOG'S blood cemented wall.
But now Sylvanus, with oblivious hand,
Would tear the sad memorial from the land;
He leads the creeping ivy close and high,
And hides the hated fragments from the eye.

The Muse, disgusted, quits the horrid theme,
And follows where the Naiades lead the stream,
Whose limpid waters, C OURDA'S meads among,
Still seem to linger as they glide along;
While Nature revels, nor a voice is mute,
The flock, the feather'd throat, and rural flute.
Vales! where of yore, Pomona lov'd to play,
And bade her leafy folds exclude the day —
Bright Fair! again in showers of bloom descend,
And teach the fruitful branches how to bend.
Ye scenes of rustic joy, where shepherds stray,
And seek the shades, or share the tepid ray;
While hid from ken profane, the group advance,
The ring is form'd, and Fauns and Fairies dance;
While jocund Pan with glee paternal plays,
And leads with antic step the frolic maze.

In days when outrage occupied the hour,
When law and justice bent the knee to power;
The chieftain's safety was the moated wall,
The hero's helmet, and the crowded hall;
Then rose T RE'R C ASTELL , o'er its wide domain,
And every Muse to Gronwy pour'd the strain;
For though the field of war alone was fame,
The milder virtues dignified his name.

Below, where riots now th' encroaching wave,
The dauntless hero gasp'd — expir'd the brave;
When Egbert pour'd the fierce invading band,
But found the warrior's sword in Merfyn's hand,
Who led with vengeful arm the patriot host,
And drove th' invading Saxon from the coast —
Than fields of blood now happier prospects rise,
And Vegetation opes her dewy eyes;
His hundred hands a new Briareus wields,
And Plenty laughs on long-neglected fields.

With all the future glowing in her breast,
There England's royal daughter chose to rest,
On Menai's shelly margin sought repose,
When life should draw its troubles to a close;
And there, directed by a husband's care,
The roof Monastic rose, and frequent prayer;
Now Harvest's annual treasure fills the dome
That once resounded with the rites of Rome!

We hie where B ARON-HILL attracts the Muse,
The sunny glades, the brow, and varying views —
Isles, towns, the rising hills, the spreading bay,
The Muse, delighted, owns the grand display;
Here Flora smiles, and flowers of every hue
Their glowing petals spread, and drink the dew,
Luxuriant rise beneath her fostering care,
And shed their fragrance on the ambient air;
Here warblers carol on the bending spray,
The Dryads gambol, and the Satyrs play,
Through wilds of foliage, and the peaceful groves,
Haunts of the Muse, the leisure hour she loves;
For Art and Nature here their beauties blend;
And Taste and Bulkeley for the palm contend.

Yet here the thoughtful Clio stops the gay,
And shews the little space where greatness lay:
Ye sorrowing race! by Life's afflictions prest,
For whom a day shall rise in glory drest!
And ye who walk Probation's gentler way,
Who pass without a storm your placid day!
And ye who bask in Fortune's brightest blaze,
May pause to think and profit while ye gaze!

The G REEN'S attracting charms, the Muse shall tell,
That all-inviting — ever-varying Mall,
That checks, with pebbly beach, the pressing tides,
Where Commerce, in her swelling canvass rides:
Where Mona's offspring seek testaceous wealth,
And every Zephyr brings the bloom of health;
Here, Britain's safety, Glory's tempting car,
Inspires the martial mind to dare the war;
The tactic page, with prying eyes explore
To scare the rash invader from the shore —
Here school-boys crowd to face the fancied foe,
And little breasts with hostile ardour glow;
The war in miniature — the mimic boy —
The bloodless battle — and the hour of joy —
The Muse beholds! and, in the bright presage,
The Marlboroughs, Nelsons, of the rising age;
And though no phalanx fall, no heroes die,
Yet Beauty darts around the conquering eye,
Through pleas'd platoons the graceful footsteps bend,
And evening suns on tales of love descend.

Here earth is loaded with a mass of wall,
The proud insulting badge of Cambria's fall,
By haughty Edward rais'd; and every stone
Records a sigh, a murder, or a groan.
The Muse of Britain, suffering at its birth,
Exulting, sees it crumbling to the earth.
Ah! what avails it that the lordly tower
Attracts the thoughtless stare and vacant hour!
If ev'ry Bard with indignation burns,
When to the tragic tale the eye returns;
If for his haunted race, to distant times,
There's still reserv'd a vengeance for his crimes.

The Muse, delighted, owns a happier fate,
When no portcullis shuts the guarded gate,
When walls, that echoed to the plaints of woe,
Repeat the milk-maid's song, the cattle's low;
And where th' embattled legion erst was drawn,
Exulting Reason feasts upon the L AWN .

And here the Muse, with Fancy's lucid eye,
Sees Cambria crowd, contending coursers fly,
The victor's triumph, and the general glee,
And Mona glory in her — own R OODEE .

From Fancy's fairy realms the Muse recedes,
To A CADEMIC roofs, and Classic shades;
The scene that now on recollection pours,
The joys of infant years, and thoughtless hours,
O Virtuous Hughes! if from the world of bliss
Thy spirit hovers o'er thy care in this,
Still beams benignant on the dome design'd,
To rear the virtues in the rising mind —
Still leads, with friendly hand, their future years,
And strews with flowery sweets the " vale of tears; "
Then, Hope, to regions of eternal day,
Shall waft, on seraph wings, this grateful lay .

Now, Muse, ascend the sylvan summits gay
That tower above the town — the valley — Bay —
Where now, unheeded, lies the heap of stones,
The altar's ruin, and the mouldering bones;
The soil once soften'd by Contrition's eyes,
On all that's mortal of S T . M EUGAN lies,
Who blindly thought that Pain's inflictive rod
Would lead the lonely Hermit to his God.

Again the active worth of Hughes appears,
A blest A SYLUM for the wreck of years!
If there his views the opening mind engage,
Here he supports the trembling limbs of age;
His breast embrac'd within its godlike plan,
At once the morn and evening hours of man!

And ye, who here his lasting bounty share,
Whose tranquil days decline without a care,
If still, as night shall close, day greet your eyes,
No grateful aspirations reach the skies,
Indignant Heaven beholds you with a frown,
Nor gives the ingrate Life's immortal crown!

Now southward, Muse, on spreading pinions bend,
A lesser Snowdon's verdant sides ascend,
That rears abruptly from the lucid deep,
Its stony apex o'er the craggy steep.
The Landscape's various charms the Muse explores,
The Druid haunts, and Mona's hallow'd shores,
High Arfon soaring o'er the humbler isle,
The winding Menai — Daniel's mitred pile;
Thy towers, Caernarvon — triple summits, Llyn,
That distant close the vast and varied scene.
Below, amphibious Man, as whim prevails,
Trims up his little bark, and spreads his sails;
Or, led by florid Health, descends to lave,
And skims the surface of the bracing wave;
Or frets the liquid azure as he floats.
Where sister nations crowd the busy boats.

Here glow'd the patriot breast with public good,
And urg'd a wish to stem th' obstructing flood,
Bade Genius form the potent pier, that braves
Impeding tempests and the war of waves;
Beheld the embryo arch, with fostering smile,
Entice the infant to the parent isle;
But though the plan the wish of nations crown'd,
Fell Discord, saw the blest design — and frown'd!
Yet Cambria's Muse preserves the thought sublime —
Records the effort on the rolls of time —
While grateful Mona in her Griffith prides,
For every virtue in his breast resides.

The Muse here shudders at the Feudal plan
That gave to man a property in man;
Contrasts the periods past, the present day,
And pours to Heaven the glad and grateful lay:
In ages dark, if Slavery chain'd her race,
Enlighten'd Britain bears the dire disgrace;
Still clouds her commerce by a legal stain,
And coolly trades in agony and pain.

Sons of the isles! whose navy rules the world,
And shews to every clime your flag unfurl'd —
Heirs to the social sweets of civil life,
O shun the odious mart — the brutal strife:
Unhappy Afric! let these days redress,
And hordes, that curse, shall name you but to bless.

We now ascend, and eastward bend our view
Where Rome's imperial eagle never flew;
The Menai leave — the rocky heights explore —
The Briton's last resource — his mountains hoar —
Where weeping Freedom from the contest fled,
And Cambria saw her dearest heroes dead.

Illustrious band! distinguish'd Arfon's boast!
'Twas your's to lead, in Gwynedd's warlike host.
For you (while wisdom dwelt upon his tongue)
Your Taliesin's sweetest lyre was strung;
For you, in peaceful shades, and tented plains,
Flow'd from his hallow'd lips th' approving strains.

Here brave Caradoc, the recording Muse,
Thy virtues, conflicts, and thy fall, reviews,
Thy manly eloquence, thy adverse fate,
The act that made a Claudius truly great .
Thine, liberal Roman! be the hero's fame,
And Britain's Muse still venerates thy name,
Pours, with a grateful flow, this verse to thee,
That bade, with generous voice, thy foe be free.
Far different, Edward, are thy hated deeds —
The smile vindictive, when thy rival bleeds,
Even now the Muse can hear the traitor's voice,
Renew the shout, and alien hosts rejoice;
The triumph ring through Conway's crowded halls,
While struggling Cambria with Llywelyn falls;
For thee, th' historic pen the rolls of fame,
Still blazon conquests, and perpetuate shame;
They still repeat that Pity (heavenly guest)
Had ne'er been cherished in thy callous breast,
Ne'er led adown thy cheeks the feeling tear
For suffering nations, or the captive's fear;
And many a deed that prompts the future sigh,
And forms the gem that dignifies the eye,
The Muse preserves, in tints for ever new,
To guide the pencil, and the stage bedew.

Thus fell, divided from his country's bands,
The princely victim of ignoble hands;
Thus fell the heir of Britain's isles and crown;
Yet Heaven had smiles reserv'd beyond its frown.

Sons of the world! to every realm that range,
Pursuing still the pleasing purpose — change ,
To Roman — Attic — climes no longer roam,
Here Britain boasts an Ida of her own;
And though stern winter in her cap of snow,
Here lingers, and forbids the streams to flow —
Forbids the grove to spread perennial shades,
Yet here the Muses have their favorite Meads:
Even now the Nine along their verdure stray,
Or, laving in the lucid waters, play;
While O GWEN clasps the heavenly Nymphs he loves,
And slowly from their mossy margin moves.

Here, too, the Bards, when merit claim'd the meed,
(The strain that gave to other days the deed)
Invok'd the H ILL , the verse inspiring spring,
And quitted earth on Rapture's rising wing;
Even now, unknown to cultivating care,
Some genial plant may feel this chilling air,
May bud, unseen, the village oak beneath,
Or bloom, unheeded, on the barren heath:
And though its tints Depression's mists may shroud,
Some beam may yet pervade th' incumbent cloud,
Some friendly hand its glowing dies may spread,
And shew its bloom on Flora's gayest bed.

Sons of the World, from busy towns and care,
Here greet Hygeia in untainted air,
Catch from her smiles the vivifying flame,
And grateful boast a renovated frame.
Here nature prides in charms to you unknown,
Forms the rare plant, and rears the eagles' throne,
Where Ocean, Man, and Mona — boundless themes!
Can realise ev'n Fancy's wildest dreams.
Here, rivers rushing from the upland lake,
With distant roar on rural stillness break;
Now slow, serene, the placid currents creep,
Now roll, terrific, from the threat'ning steep;
While rills, unnumber'd, fill the fluid train,
And proudly roll with Ogwen to the main.

Here, Cambria still can trace the friendly T OWER ,
One watchful guardian in her dangerous hour,
To check the inroad — to avert the blow —
And shield her Mona from the faithless foe!

When Autumn fills with waving gold the field,
And Mona's busy sons the sickle wield,
They fix the pensive look, and cautious pry
Where F RANCON'S varying aspect leads the eye,
And from the boding frown or feature gay,
The valued hours employ — direct the day.

Thus, when at eve the piscatory train
Survey, with longing eye, the teeming main —
As leads the floating bird, the porpoise rolls,
They view the surface-animating shoals;
And man, the finny foe, with cormorant wish,
Insatiate grasps, in thought , the ocean's fish;
Anticipates the morn with anxious care,
And spreads along the shore the meshy snare.

And here the ROCK displays its azure hue,
And feeds, with massy sides, the mining crewe,
While Penrhyn cherishes the busy hive,
And bids the dormant region be alive;
Decks, with new Emporium, Menai's shores,
While all the winds of Heaven disperse its stores.

To spread a wider harvest o'er the plain,
And rear the hardy oak that rules the main;
To hail from every clime, the freighted gale,
And, with a richer verdure, clothe the vale;
To ope the mountain's womb, the vein to trace;
And crowd its surface with the fleecy race;
To give the shuttle's speed an added wing,
And bid a realm with grateful voices ring:
These are the Arts that form the Patriot's plan,
The godlike arts that dignify the Man —
There are the truly Great, who nobly bend
Their blissful efforts to the happiest end,
Who, Heaven-directed, use — exert their powers,
And give to Britain's weal Life's transient hours.
For these, O Fame! thy trump with fervor fill,
And let the lasting tones be sweet and shrill.

Abode of native chiefs, of Bards the theme,
Here Princely P ENRHYN soars above the stream,
And Phaenix like in rising splendour drest,
Towers o'er its wide domain with regal crest.
Here, Cambria opes her tome of other days,
And with maternal pride, the page displays —
Dwells on the glorious list, and loves to trace
From Britain's genuine Kings — her noblest race.

Now Nature soft'ning, from the Carnedd bends,
And gently to the humbler dale descends,
Alternate spreads the saline sheet or sands,
And checks the waves with Aber's lengthen'd strands;
Here looks at Claude with eye benign and mild,
There stares at Rosa like a maniac wild.

Tremendous P ENMAEN ! there old Ocean braves,
And soars, insulting, o'er subjected waves,

Where erst, on pendant paths, 'twixt sea and skies,
Scar'd Wonder oft has open'd all her eyes,
And wary Fear, beneath the frightful steep,
Has taught the cautious traveller to creep,
But now Sylvester, with superior skill,
Has led the terrace o'er the stubborn hill,
And bad the hidden arch its aid impart
To manage nature — by the wiles of art.

Here, on his country every Muse shall call,
To bid his fame with P ENMAEN only fall;
To bid the grateful obelisk to rise,
And tell his merits to succeeding eyes;
Where now the stranger sees, without dismay,
The cliff suspended, and the surges play.

Lo! Conway still, in plaintive strain, renews
The woeful day that hapless Cambria rues;
When o'er the frowning brow that crowns the flood
The hoary Bard, with looks of horror stood —
Struck, deeply struck, the sorrows of his lyre,
And ills unborn pourtray'd with prophet's fire —
Fix'd on the flowing stream the frantic stare,
And gave his tortur'd bosom to despair;
Then rush'd from Life's accumulated woes,
And in the pitying waters found repose.

Again, see P RIESTHOLM rear its rocky sides,
And swell serenely from surrounding tides,
Firm, to the billowy rage, its front display,
And form a road to Wygir's friendly Bay ;
For when the storm impels the hurried waves,
Disturbs the deep, and on its surface raves —
The shatter'd vessel to the rock devotes,
Thy bulwark, Britain, here in safety floats!

Eye, Muse, the crowded isle — its cliffs how gay,
While gazing strangers thro' its wonders stray,
They view, with Terror's eye, the shelving steep,
And, daring Man, look down upon the deep;
The murmuring Puffins to their shelter crowd —
The living surface — and the feather'd cloud —
The ambient waters — and the general scream —
For novel Nature seems to them a dream.

Now D AY'S bright beams to western waves retire,
And Thetis hails again light's radiant Sire.
We leave the isle — and homeward point the prow,
And now the bark proceeds serene and slow,
While babbling Echo from the cavern'd shores,
Repeats the dashing of the laboring oars;
And, pleas'd with Arfon's mimic voice, prolongs
The laugh-approving, and repeated songs.
And now, alternate, on distended sails,
The breathing air, or genial breeze prevails —
Plays on the surface, and at eve restores
The mirthful group to Mona's greeting shores:
The DAY is clos'd — the fluttering sails are furl'd —
And Night, in shade and stillness, folds the world!