Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
England: Vols. I–IV. 1876–79.
The Rock of Cader Idris
By Felicia Hemans (17931835)
I
The birthplace of phantoms, the home of the cloud;
Around it forever deep music is swelling,
The voice of the mountain wind solemn and loud.
’T was a midnight of shadows all fitfully streaming,
Of wild waves and breezes, that mingle their moan;
Of dim shrouded stars, as from gulfs faintly gleaming;
And I met the dread gloom of its grandeur alone.
Man’s tongue hath no language to speak what I saw;
Things glorious, unearthly, passed floating before me,
And my heart almost fainted with rapture and awe.
I viewed the dread beings around us that hover,
Though veiled by the mists of mortality’s breath;
And I called upon darkness the vision to cover,
For a strife was within me of madness and death.
The rush of whose pinion bears onward the storms;
Like the sweep of the white-rolling wave was their motion,—
I felt their dim presence, but knew not their forms!
I saw them,—the mighty of ages departed,—
The dead were around me that night on the hill:
From their eyes, as they passed, a cold radiance they darted,—
There was light on my soul, but my heart’s blood was chill.
Was strong, and triumphantly lived through that hour;
And, as from the grave, I awoke to inherit
A flame all immortal, a voice, and a power!
Day burst on that rock with the purple cloud crested,
And high Cader Idris rejoiced in the sun;
But O, what new glory all nature invested,
When the sense which gives soul to her beauty was won!