Towy Landscape

Fancy! Nymph, that loves to lye

On the lonely Eminence,

Darting Notice thro' the Eye,

Forming Thought, and feasting Sense,

Thou! That must lend Imagination Wings,

And stamp Distinction, on all wordly Things

Come, and with thy various Hues,

Paint and adorn thy Sister Muse

Now, while the Sun's hot Coursers, bounding high;

Shake Lustre, on the Earth, and burn along the Sky.

Thou, aweful Grongar,

In whose mossy cells sweetly musing quiet dwells

Thou aweful Grongar

Deep beneath whose shado'wy side

Oft my sick Mind serene Refreshment took

Near the cool winding of some bubbling brook

There have I pensive press'd the grassy Bed

Strayed my charm'd eyes o'er Towy's wandering Tide

Swift as a start of thought,

From Wood to mead Glancing from dark to bright from vale to hill.

Widening beneath the Mountain's bushy brow

The unbounded landskip softens off below

No skreeny vapours intervene

But the splendid scene

Does nature's smiling face all open show

In the mix'd glowings of the tinctur'd bow

And gently changing into soft and light,

Expands immensely wide and leads the journeying sight.

White on the rugged cliffs old castles rise,

And shelter'd villages lie warm and low,

Close by the streams that at their bases flow.

Each watery face bears pictur'd words and skies,

Whereas the surface curls when breezes rise,

Faint fairy Earthquakes tremble to the eyes.

Up thro' the Forest's gloom distinguish'd bright

Tops of high buildings catch the light.

The quick'ning Sun a show'ry Radiance,

Sheds and lights up all the Mountain's heads.

Gilds the fair Fleeces of the distant flocks,

And glittering plays betwixt the broken rocks.

Deep at its base, In Towy's bordering Flood,

Its bristly sides are shagg'd with sullen wood.

Thick round the ragged walls pale ivy creeps.

Whose circling arms the nodding fabrick keeps,

While both combine to check th'insulting wind.

As friends in danger,

Mutual comfort find.

Once a proud palace a seat of kings,

Now 'tis the raven's bleak abode,

And shells in marbly damps the inbred toad.

The prince's tenure in his roofs of gold,

Ends like the peasant's homelier hold.

Life's but a road,

And he who travels right,

Treats fortune as an Inn and rests his night.

Here while on humble Earth unmark'd I lie,

I subject Heav'n and Nature to my eye.

Solid my joys and my free thoughts run high.

To sooth my ear those waters murmur deep.

To shade my eye these bowry Woodbines creep.

Wanton to yield me sport these Birds fly low,

And a sweet chase of Harmony bestow.

Like me too yon sweet stream serenely glides,

Just views and quits the charms which tempt its sides.

Calmly regardless hastening to the sea,

As I thro' life shall reach Eternity.