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Poem by Robert Southey
For a Monument in the Vale of Ewias
HERE was it, stranger, that the patron saint Of Cambria passed his age of penitence, A solitary man; and here he made His hermitage, the roots his food, his drink Of Hodney’s mountain stream. Perchance thy youth Has read with eager wonder how the Knight Of Wales in Ormandine’s enchanted bower Slept the long sleep; and, if that in thy veins Flow the pure blood of Britain, sure that blood Hath flowed with quicker impulse at the tale Of David’s deeds, when through the press of war His gallant comrades followed his green crest To victory. Stranger! Hatterill’s mountain heights, And this fair vale of Ewias, and the stream Of Hodney, to thine afterthoughts will rise More grateful, thus associate with the name Of David and the deeds of other days.
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