Mathraval

Robert Southey

 

NOW for Mathraval went Prince Madoc forth;

O’er Menai’s ebbing tide, up mountain-paths,

Beside gray mountain-stream and lonely lake,

And through old Snowdon’s forest-solitude,

He held right on his solitary way.

Nor paused he in that rocky vale where oft

Up the familiar path, with gladder pace,

His steed had hastened to the well-known door,—

That valley o’er whose crags and sprinkled trees

And winding stream so oft his eye had loved

To linger, gazing, as the eve grew dim,

From Dolwyddelan’s Tower: alas! from thence,

As from his brother’s monument, he turned

A loathing eye, and through the rocky vale

Sped on. From morn till noon, from noon till eve,

He travelled on his way; and when at morn

Again the Ocean Chief bestrode his steed,

The heights of Snowdon on his backward glance

Hung like a cloud in heaven. O’er heath and hill

And barren height he rode; and darker now,

In loftier majesty, thy mountain-seat,

Star-loving Idris! rose. Nor turned he now

Beside Kregennan, where his infant feet

Had trod Ednywain’s hall; nor loitered he

In the green vales of Powys, till he came

Where Warnway rolls its waters underneath

Ancient Mathraval’s venerable walls,

Cyveilioc’s princely and paternal seat.