 | The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince |  |
189
ON QUITTING NORTH WALES.
Farewell, proud region, where the living GodHath built a temple for the human heart
To worship in, sincerely: I have trod—
From cloudy towns and fretful men apart—
Thine aisles of majesty: in truth thou art
A vast cathedral, where devotion springs
In feelings, not in words. Thou dost impart
Sublimest doctrines by sublimest things:
The mountains are thy priesthood—Snowdon flings
A silent language from his awful face;
Prayer goeth up from streams—the cataract sings
Incessant anthems to the Throne of Grace;
And I have lingered in thy fane to feel
The Eternal's Presence o'er my spirit steal!
| The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince | |