O'er the Severn-surge, in long array, 30
So, the proud galleys went,
Till soon, as dissolved in ether gray,
The woods, and the shores, and the Holms[136] steal away,
And the long blue hills of Gwent.
[132] This lyrical ballad is founded on a story connected with an old Welsh melody. I have placed the circumstance in the time of the Crusades.
[133] Archbishop of Canterbury, who preached the Crusade in Wales.
[134] Monmouthshire.
[135] The Welsh tune is called the "Remembrance of Gwenlhian," the name of the woman.
[136] Islands in the Bristol Channel.
Part II.
High on the hill, with moss o'ergrown, 1
A hermit chapel stood;
It spoke the tale of seasons gone,
And half-revealed its ivied stone.
Amid the beechen wood.
Here often, when the mountain trees 2
A leafy murmur made,
Now still, now swaying to the breeze,
(Sounds that the musing fancy please),
The widowed mourner strayed.
And many a morn she climbed the steep, 3
From whence she might behold,
Where, 'neath the clouds, in shining sweep,
And mingling with the mighty deep,
The sea-broad Severn rolled.