O Vale of Deva, famous shalt thou be
From this day forth for ever; and to these
Thy springs shall unborn generations come
In pilgrimage, and hallow with their prayers
The cradle of their native monarchy!
There was a stirring in the air, the sun
Prevail’d, and gradually the brightening mist
Began to rise and melt. A jutting crag
Upon the right projected o’er the stream,
Not farther from the cave than a strong hand