The Variety of Wales.
Oh where with such variety
Her charms doth nature pour,
Or beauties lavish as on thee,
Thou world in miniature?
Now stern and frowning she appears,
Anon her smile most radiant wears.
Between the hills which upward soar
Fair valleys lie afar,
Where wakes no wind, no torrents roar
Our perfect peace to mar,
And many a mere to human eyes
Reflects the Peace of Paradise.
As ramparts high thy mountains rise
Against the wind and rain,
To break the strength of wintry skies
And rush of storms restrain.
And safe beneath them smiling spreads
The green expanse of fertile meads.
Though thou art little, dearest Wales,
Though strait thy limits are,
Upon thy mountains and thy vales
Are beauties rich and rare:
Thy bounds are narrowed, but to me
Sufficient thy variety.