Let orchard, garden, vine express
Thy fulness and thy fruitfulness—
O’er all the land of beauty fling
The costly traces of thy wing!
And thus mid all thy radiant flowers,
Thy thick’ning leaves and glossy bowers,
The poet’s task shall be to glean
Roses and flowers that softly bloom,
(The jewels of the forest’s gloom!)
And trefoils wove in pavement green,
With sad humility to grace
His golden Ivor’s resting place!
This county is equally remarkable for the diversified beauty of its landscapes. “Its scenery,” says a tourist, “is distinguished by unbounded variety; it is full of pictures from one end of the district to the other[1].” The ruins of its princely castles, in which the bard was entertained, still excite the admiration of the tourist. Edifices ‘white with
- ↑ Malkin’s South Wales.