532 WILD FLOWERS OF 



centuries bristling its face, to which I pilgrimaged 

 from Cadir Idris, not without emotion, and from 

 whence I now see in my herbarium the pitted Sticta 

 and the brown Nepliroma, still ever as I gaze recalling 

 the sensations with which I gathered them. Up that 

 frightful cliff, said my informant, as I turned to take 

 my farewell of its awful form, two youths were climb- 

 ing where you just stood, but they were seeking bird's 

 eggs. They were half way up its scarcely practicable 

 ascent, when a thunder storm suddenly swept on, and 

 clouds shrouded them from view. Awed by the 

 elemental conflict, they were unable to advance or 

 retreat. Long they clung one above another to the 

 dreadful precipice, but at last, blinded by lightning, 

 one fell, and at once paid the forfeit of his life. As 

 the storm abated, the other shrunk sadly from his 

 high position, slowly retrograded, and escaped. I 

 turned from Craig-y-Deryn, or the Cliff of Birds, 

 with a sigh, and proceeded on my course among the 

 mountains. 



But it is among the wildness of such localities that 

 nature ever delights to place her favorites, for the 

 stormy blast that shakes the mountain, and the pour- 

 ing rain that floods the valley, merely increase the 

 facilities of these plants to grow, extend, and perform 

 the economy for which they were designed. The 

 mosses retain the falling water to ooze it forth in the 

 dribbling chrystal drops of summer, and the Lichens 

 spread profusely to form those tufts upon the uplands, 

 which show their tips of crimson no where else. 

 " Ah me ! what lovely tints are there ! 

 Of olive green, and scarlet bright, 

 In spikes, in branches, and in stars, 

 Green, red, and pearly white ; 



