Glan Geirionydd

.



One time upon a summer day

I saunter'd on the shore

Of swift Geirionydd's waters blue,

Where oft I walked before

In youth's bright season gone,

And spent life's happiest morn

In drawing from its crystal waves

The trout beneath the thorn,

When every thought within my breast

Was light as solar ray,

Enjoying every pastime dear< r />
Throughout the livelong day.



The breeze would soften on the lake,

Unruffled be its deep,

And all surrounding nature be

As calm as silent sleep,

Except the raven's dismal shriek

Upon the lofty spray,

And bleat of sheep beside the bush

Where light their lambkins play,

And noise made by the busy mill

Upon the river shore,

With cuckoo's song perch'd in the ash

To show that winter's o'er.



The impressive scene would rather tend

To nurse reflection deep,

Than cast the gay and sprightly fly

Beneath the rocky steep;

'Twould fill my spirit now subdued

With sober earnest thought,

Of other days, and other things,

My youthful hands had wrought;

The tears would spring into my eyes,

My heart with heaving fill,

To think of all that I had been,

And all that I am still.



* * * * *



The sober stillness would beget

Thoughts of departed friends,

Who not long since companions were

Upon the river's bends;

And soon will come the sombre day

When I shall meet their doom,

And 'stead of fishing by the lake,

I shall be in the tomb.

Some brother bard may chance to stray

And ask for Ieuan E'an?--

"Geirionydd lake is still the same,

But here no Ieuan's seen."