THIS JOURNAL IS DEDICATED,
With Sentiments Of High Esteem,
And A Lively Recollection Of Past Pleasures,
By Their Humble Servant,
THE AUTHOR.



PREFACE.

In the summer of 1807, a party of my good friends in Gloucestershire
proposed to themselves a short excursion down the Wye, and through part of
South Wales.

While this plan was in agitation, the lines which I had composed on
"Shooter's Hill," during ill health, and inserted in my last volume,
obtained their particular attention. A spirit of prediction, as well as
sorrow, is there indulged; and it was now in the power of this happy party
to falsify such predictions, and to render a pleasure to the writer of no
common kind. An invitation to accompany them was the consequence; and the
following Journal is the result of that invitation.

Should the reader, from being a resident, or frequent visitor, be well
acquainted with the route, and able to discover inaccuracies in distances,
succession of objects, or local particulars, he is requested to recollect,
that the party was out but ten days; a period much too short for correct
and laborious description, but quite sufficient for all the powers of
poetry which I feel capable of exerting. The whole exhibits the language
and feelings of a man who had never before seen a mountainous country; and
of this it is highly necessary that the reader should be apprized.