No dragons could Pendragon, if alive yet, find to slay,
And the dwarves, and fays, and fairies all alike have gone away.
Now Griffiths is the Safe Man, and a griffin guards no more
The secret riches of the rocks—they lie concealed in ore;
The lodes and veins, and minerals, there's quantities untold
In the quarries and the crystals, and the quartzes, full of gold.
It is an El Dorado, found in Mawddach's happy vale;
It is Mr. Pritchard Morgan's, look you, no romancer's tale.
And mines besides Gwmfynydd mine 'tis like there's them that owns;
Peradventure Mr. Jenkins, Mr. Evans, Mr. Jones.