Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 40 1834/The Rock of Cader Idris
The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 40, Page 365
THE ROCK OF CADER-IDRIS.
A LEGEND OF WALES.—BY MRS. HEMANS.
[It is an ancient tradition of Wales, that whoever should pass a night alone on the summit of the Mountain Cader-Idris, would be found in the morning either dead, in a state of frenzy, or endowed with the highest poetical inspiration.]
I lay on that rock where the storms have their dwelling,
The birthplace of phantoms, the home of the cloud;
Around it for ever deep music is swelling,
The voice of the Mountain-wind, solemn and loud.
'Twas a midnight of shadows, all fitfully streaming,
Of wild gusts and torrents that mingled their moan,
Of dim-shrouded stars, as thro' gulphs faintly gleaming,
And my strife with stern nature was darksome and lone.
I lay there in silence:—a spirit came o'er me;
Man's tongue hath no language to speak what I saw!
Things glorious, unearthly, pass'd floating before me,
And my heart almost fainted with rapture and awe!
I viewed the dread Beings around us that hover,
Tho' veiled by the mists of Mortality's breath;
And I called upon Darkness the vision to cover,
For within me was battling of madness and death!
I saw them—the Powers of the Wind and the Ocean,
The rush of whose pinion bears onward the storm;
Like the sweep of the white-rolling wave was their motion,
I felt their dread presence, but knew not their form.
I saw them—the mighty of ages departed—
The dead were around me that night on the hill;
From their eyes, as they pass'd, a cold radiance they darted;
There was light on my soul, but my heart's blood was chill.
I saw what man looks on, and dies!—but my spirit
Was strong, and triumphantly lived thro' that hour,
And as from the grave I awoke, to inherit
A flame all immortal, a voice and a pow'r!
Day burst on that Rock with the purple cloud crested,
And high Cader-ldris rejoiced in the sun;
But oh! what new glory all nature invested,
When the sense which gives soul to her beauty was won!