(28 July 1844 – 8 June 1889 / Stratford, Essex)

In The Valley Of The Elwy

I remember a house where all were good
To me, God knows, deserving no such thing:
Comforting smell breathed at very entering,
Fetched fresh, as I suppose, off some sweet wood.
That cordial air made those kind people a hood
All over, as a bevy of eggs the mothering wing
Will, or mild nights the new morsels of spring:
Why, it seemed of course; seemed of right it should.

Lovely the woods, waters, meadows, combes, vales,
All the air things wear that build this world of Wales;
Only the inmate does not correspond:
God, lover of souls, swaying considerate scales,
Complete thy creature dear O where it fails,
Being mighty a master, being a father and fond.

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Comments (6)

The final stanza references the scales presumably of justice. He asks God Himself to bring about the balance of the scales, if there is any. He describes God's nature both as a Just master and a Graceful father, which justifies the author' asking for justice. Then he finishes the poem saying how much gratitude and fond remembrance he has for this Welsh valley and saying a prayer for its ancient priest, and himself.
Kind people; with the works of peace. Thanks for sharing.
.......a wonderful poem...there is no comparison to the unspoiled beauty of nature ★
Beautifully conceived poem with an even flow and rhyme, as also thought provoking and intriguing too. Thanks for sharing here.
Excellent imagery and a nice poem, thanks for sharing.
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