Tuesday, 7 August 2007

A little more about Hafodunos...

I managed to find the book about the hall and the sandbach family that lived there, and reading through for snippets to tell i found this lovely poem written by Margaret Sandbach.....
Here we pass our rural life;
Here,enclosed in mountain nook,
Read we nature's varied book.
Here on gardens flowery ground
Spreads a loved enchantment round;
Lawn and stream and fountain clear,
yew tree's shade, in summer dear;
Border trim, and terrace walk,
Where we stroll or sit and talk,
And the winding ways that lead
To the wood's and to the mead,
Oh this pleasant garden ground,
What a charm it spreads around!
Here the rhododendron bed
show's spring it's brilliant red;
rich and rare,of eastern birth,
Nursed in our ambitious earth;
There beside the murmuring brook,
Azaleas light and lovely look;
Daphne's fragrance scents the air,
And there stems the lilies rear.
here the pinks so small and sweet,
Flower mine eye delights to greet,
Favourite flowers!A gift to me
from one we never more shall see.
Roses spread their welcome bloom,
And there own unique perfume;
sulphur pale, and blush, and white,
damask, moss, and crimson bright;
roses how we love them all,
fairy low, and climber tall!
Grey old gale, wreathed with these,
standing out 'mid sheltering trees,
Don's his summer coat,and wears
Gayer smiles with growing years.
Seated in our Laurel bower
Where clematis her starry flower
Mingles with the shining leaves,
And wild hop it's garland weaves;
Here we muse and catch the light
straying o'er the garden bright,
Through branches dark of ancient yew,
Of statley growth and sombre hue-
We hear the birds from shady bough,
Chant their music sweet and low;
On the fir trees spiral height
See the shining blackbird light,
Straining his expansive throat,
With that long delicious note-
And i think, no misers gold
Clutched within his eager hold;
Students hard won, longed for prize,
Spread before his weary eyes;
Fame and state and fair success,
All the world calls happiness-
No nor Izaak waltons love
for his darling banks of dove;
The poets for his poplar trees,
When he woo'd the summer breeze,
Could be pleasure half so sweet
As we within our garden meet.
This book is worth buying..Hafodunos hall. triumph of the martyr by mark baker..
Having read some of magarets writing's, i'll feel even more watched by ghosts, as i wander through, and enjoy her garden..
"But i feel she wouldnt mind one bit".