To the Town in Time of Drought.
Towy, I must love thee still,1
Though thou movest slow, forlorn ;2
Robb’d of many a running rill,3
Whispering, wistful, weary, worn.4
I who saw thee in thy pride5
Flush thy banks on either side,6
Love thee now that fickle force7
Leaves thee labouring on thy course.8
Not alone when life is young,9
Brimming brain and flooding heart,10
Does the maiden fill the tongue11
Of her lover, teach it art.12
Not alone her maiden might13
Forms a marvel in his sight ;14
Nor alone, when she doth move15
Queenly, doth her lover love.16
So with me who saw thee first17
Fill’d with many a mountain spring,18
Glad as Brân and Sawddé burst19
On thee headlong hurrying.20
Much I loved thee, Towy, then,21
Matchless mistress of the glen ;22
Nothing less I love thee now,23
Or repent me of my vow.24
Some, perchance, will pitying look25
On thy life diminished,26
Leave thy side as they forsook27
Others whom they loved, they said.28
But to me, though summer sky29
Sap thy strength and runnels die,30
Towy, mistress, thou art dear31
Now as ever, through the year.32
Fare thee well ! I know the pain33
That thy silver feet have known,34
Miseing wonted depths of rain,35
Falling on the cruel stone.36
Longer now it will not last,37
Welcome waits thee, ocean vast ;38
Shallows in the depths of sea39
Shall a past forgotten be.40
Note.—The Towy, rising in the Black Mountains, flows into Carmarthen
Bay, passing Grongar Hill, Golden Grove, and Dynevor Castle on its
wooded height, and watering a lovely Welsh valley. The Towy Vale is one
of the fairest in the West.
Bay, passing Grongar Hill, Golden Grove, and Dynevor Castle on its
wooded height, and watering a lovely Welsh valley. The Towy Vale is one
of the fairest in the West.