And thou hast snuff'd sulphureous fumes
'Mid rural nature's charnel tombs;
Thou hast sped with eye unscar'd
Where Merthyr's fields of fire flar'd;
And thou wert dauntless on thy way,
My faithful mountain galloway.
There is a vale, 'tis far away,
But we must reach that vale to-day;
There is a mansion in that vale,
Its white walls well the eye regale!
And there's a hand more white they say,
Shall pat my gallant galloway.
And she is young, and she is fair,
The lovely one who sojourns there;
Oh, truly dear is she to me!
As thou art mine, she'll welcome thee:
Then off we go, at break of day,
On, on! my gallant galloway.
GLAN GEIRIONYDD.
FROM THE REV. EVAN EVANS.
One time upon a summer day
I saunter'd on the shore
Of swift Geirionydd's waters blue,
Where oft I walked before
In youth's bright season gone,
And spent life's happiest morn
In drawing from its crystal waves
The trout beneath the thorn,
When every thought within my breast
Was light as solar ray,
Enjoying every pastime dear
Throughout the livelong day.
The breeze would soften on the lake,
Unruffled be its deep,
And all surrounding nature be
As calm as silent sleep,
Except the raven's dismal shriek
Upon the lofty spray,
And bleat of sheep beside the bush
Where light their lambkins play,
And noise made by the busy mill
Upon the river shore,
With cuckoo's song perch'd in the ash
To show that winter's o'er.
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