The lamentation of Cambria

Ye banks of dark Conway, deserted and drear,

From your hollow caverns what sighs do I hear!

The spirit of Cadwall laments from the shore,

Whose hoarse-sounding waters are tinctur'd with gore.

Remorse and despair still add weight to our chain;

Even sweet-smiling Hope the stern victor has slain.

Our glories he tarnish'd, our records he tore,

And freedom and Cambria, alas! are no more!