ON THE ASCENT OF CADER IDRIS. 



Down this descent a narrow path is shewn, 



Where, it is said, the mountain foxes climb; 



And stirring tales of chase, that ne'er grow old, 



Are oft related by the hardy mountaineers, 



And listened to with breathless, shuddering awe. 



They tell how once a well-known wary fox, 



That oft had slain the choicest of the herd, 



Was roused from out his hidden lair of fern, 



Down in the woods that skirt the Mawddach's shore; 



How right away it fled, close followed by the pack, 



Whose music, echoing from the distant rocks, 



Brought ready huntsmen from their cottage homes, 



A motley crew, on horseback and on foot, 



Bold cragsmen, well inured to the chase. 



With shout and wild halloo they sped along, 



And first across the lowlands held their way, 



Past copse, and fell, and cavernous ravine, 



Past many a wooded glen and wild retreat, 



Past heath and moorland, where the curlew feeds, 



Past busy scenes, and scenes of joyful mirth, 



Past homes of mourning, sorrow, and disgrace, 



Past many a tarn and rippling mountain brook, 



Where, like a shadow, glanced the wary trout, 



Past hamlet, and the quiet churchyard graves, 



Where, heedless and unheeded, lay the dead : 



And thus for many a winged mile they sped, 



Till hounds and huntsmen, wearied with the chase, 



Exhausted, one by one gave up pursuit, 



All save one staunch hound, which still pressed on, 



And gained upon its prey, which then essayed 



To climb the mountain's brow — its last resource. 



And now, with lolling tongue and panting sides, 



Eight up the steep ascent they slowly pressed, 



Pursuer and pursued in close companionship; 



With wistful eyes each passed the rippling stream 



Which gushes from the summit of the mount; 



A moment more, and almost side by side 



Over the fearful precipice they sprang. 



The next day, safe upon a jutting crag, 



By those who went in search, the hound was found; 



While far down at the base, a shapeless mass, 



Among the loose debris, the fox lay dead. 



And now the sun had reached its western bounds, 



And, as it sank beneath the level of the sea, 



Shot forth a radiant path of light 



Over the quiet ripple of the waves, as if 



To kiss the earth once more, then disappeared; 



And long before I reached the plains below, 



From dell, and vale, and wooded glens arose 



The opal mists of eve. K. C. 



