Poem by William Sotheby

Skirid, a Hill near Abergavenny

SKIRID! remembrance thy loved scene renews;
Fancy, yet lingering on thy shaggy brow,
Beholds around the lengthened landscape glow,
Which charmed, when late the day-beam’s parting hues
Purpled the distant cliff. The crystal stream
Of Usk bright winds the verdant meads among;
The dark heights lower with wild woods o’erhung;
Pale on the gray tower falls the twilight gleam,
And frequent I recall the sudden breeze,
Which, as the sun shot up his last pale flame,
Shook every light leaf shivering on the trees:
Then, bathed in dew, meek evening silent came,
While the low wind, that faint and fainter fell,
Soft murmured to the dying day—Farewell!

1. Staffa
2. On Crossing the Anglesea Strait to Bangor at Midnight

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