CLEAR WATERS 



could * call spirits from the vasty deep,' broods over 

 the spot. As for myself, it engendered an interest in 

 everything pertaining to the romantic part of what 

 is always to me the most physically delectable of the 

 three kingdoms of the island of Britain. The Welsh, 

 though always purposing, have never achieved a 

 national monument to the strongest and most mag- 

 netic personality of all their ancient history.^ Perhaps 

 the preachers are fearful lest its martial signifi- 

 cance should encourage recruiting in His Majesty's 

 forces, which to them is anathema. The soul of a 

 soldier they believe to be irretrievably lost. The best 

 monument to the hero after all is the group of aged 

 fir-trees on the high tump above the Dee at Carrog, 

 bordering both the Holyhead road and the Great 

 Western Railway, where the impetuous waters of the 

 sacred river play the same accompaniment, no doubt, 

 as they piped to the harp of the Red lolo, Owen's bard, 

 as he sounded his patron's praises in verse, which we 

 may read to-day. 



1 Owen's ' Parliament House ' at Machynlleth has been totally restored 

 and dedicated to his memory. 



76 



