"Much musing on the dreams that charmed my youth,
Far from Neath's mart tumultuous, and the scenes
Where nature mourns, while from the molten ore
Sulphureous blasts that dim the noon-day sun,
Load the insected gale, lured by the fall
Of the far flood through pathless glens I roam,
Where Melincourt's loud echoing crags resound.
Not bolder views Salvator's pencil dashed
In Alpine wilds romantic. Far descried
Through the deep windings of the gloomy way,
The hoar Cledaugh, swoln by autumnal storms,
Down the o'erhanging rock's declivity
Curves the broad cataract, and on the stones
Rent from the shattered mass prone rushing, spreads
The foamy spray around. Here could I muse
The livelong day, and wandering down the dell,
Along the grassy margin trace the stream
Meandering; now confined from crag to crag,
Where bursts the headlong flood, or widely spread
'Mid the broad channel, where the undimpled wave
Bathing the wild flowers bending o'er the brink
Glides silent by; and ever and anon,
As gently borne by interrupted gales
Murmured the distant torrent, would I catch
The sound that echo from her secret cave
Responsive breathed. Vain the fond wish! Rent clouds
Drench the chill limbs, and the racked temples throb
Pained with the raging torrent's ceaseless roar.
Reluctantly with lingering step I leave
Thy haunts, wild Melincourt! but memory long
Shall dwell upon thy charms, and long shall rush
Cledaugh, thy water-fall on fancy's ear."
 
William Sotheby

from A Tour Through Parts of Wales (1894)





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