CLEAR WATERS 



And to the spirit's ear and eye 



Are unison and harmony. 



The moonlight was my dearer day ; 



Then would I wander far away, 



And lingering on the wild brook's shore 



To hear its unremitting roar, 



Would lose in the ideal flow 



All sense of overwhelming woe. 



There is a good hotel near the new Elan village 

 below the big dam, while the Black Lion at Rhayader 

 is an excellent and snug headquarters for fishermen, 

 to say nothing of many good private apartments. If 

 other holiday-makers besides fishermen knew what 

 like was the neighbourhood of Rhayader, what abound- 

 ing walks through scenes in all directions fit for the 

 gods, its limited capacities for entertainment would of 

 a truth avail little. Is South Wales pretty ? Again 

 what can be said for the banality of such an utterance, 

 as if dubious whether it might be as uplifting as Sussex 

 or Surrey, or other stock regions familiar to the Ken- 

 singtonian week-ender ! 



Rhayader fell into the English speech nearly a cen- 

 tury ago, though the ancient tongue still holds a 

 steadily waning grip upon the highlands to the west 

 of it. Hence its lapse into English-Welsh from 

 Rhaiadr Gwy, the cataract of Wye, its true name, 

 and one obvious enough since the river takes a big leap 

 through a gorge, beneath a single arch and bridge on 

 the town street. This is a famous salmon leap, and 

 more traditionally associated with poaching conflicts, 

 I should imagine, than any other salmon-pass in Britain. 

 The Welsh peasantry, on the face of it, are the most 

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