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(From Madoc)
MUSING on thoughts like these, did Madoc roam | |
| Alone along the Towy’s winding shore. | |
| The beavers in its bank had hollowed out | |
| Their social place of dwelling, and had dammed | |
| The summer current, with their perfect art | 5 |
| Of instinct, erring not in means nor end. | |
| But as the floods of spring had broken down | |
| Their barrier, so its breaches unrepaired | |
| Were left; and round the piles, which, deeper driven, | |
| Still held their place, the eddying waters whirled. | 10 |
| Now in those habitations desolate | |
| One sole survivor dwelt: him Madoc saw, | |
| Laboring alone, beside his hermit house; | |
| And in that mood of melancholy thought,— | |
| For in his boyhood he had loved to watch | 15 |
| Their social work, and for he knew that man | |
| In bloody sport had wellnigh rooted out | |
| The poor community,—the ominous sight | |
| Became a grief and burden. Eve came on; | |
| The dry leaves rustled to the wind, and fell | 20 |
| And floated on the stream; there was no voice | |
| Save of the mournful rooks, who overhead | |
| Winged their long line; for fragrance of sweet flowers, | |
| Only the odor of the autumnal leaves;— | |
| All sights and sounds of sadness. And the place | 25 |
| To that despondent mood was ministrant. | |
| Among the hills of Gwyneth, and its wilds, | |
| And mountain glens, perforce he cherished still | |
| The hope of mountain liberty; they braced | |
| And knit the heart and arm of hardihood: | 30 |
| But here, in these green meads, by these low slopes | |
| And hanging groves, attempered to the scene, | |
| His spirit yielded. | |
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