It was a bright benignant hour,
The song of praise was full of power;
And, darting from the noon-day sky,
Amidst the tide of harmony,
O'er aisle and pillar glancing strong,
Heav'ns radiant light inspir'd the song.
The word of peace, that can disarm
Care with its own peculiar charm,
Here flow'd a double stream, to cheer
The Saxon[1] and the Mountaineer,
[Footnote 1: Divine service is performed alternately in English and Welsh.
That they still call us Saxons, need hardly be mentioned. I observed the
army to be equally as accommodating as the church, for the posting-bills,
for recruits, are printed in both languages.]
Of various stock, of various name,
Now join'd in rites, and join'd in fame.

YE who religion's duty teach,
What constitutes a Sabbath breach?
Is it, when joy the bosom fills,
To wander o'er the breezy hills?
Is it, to trace around your home
The footsteps of imperial Rome?
Then guilty, guilty let us plead,
Who, on the cheerful rested steed,
In thought absorb'd, explor'd, with care,
The wild lanes round the silent GAER[1],
[Footnote 1: A road must have led from Abergavenny, through the Vale of
the Usk, north-west to the "Gaer," situated two miles north-west of
Brecon, on a gentle eminence, at the conflux of the rivers Esker and Usk.