"All our praises why should Lords engross?
Rise, honest Muse! And sing the man of Ross,
Pleas'd Vaga echoes through her winding bounds
And rapid Severn hoarse applause resounds.
Who hung with woods yon mountain's sultry brow,
From the dry rock who bade the waters flow,
Not to the skies in useless columns tost,
Or in proud falls magnificently lost.
But clear and artless pouring through the plain
Health to the sick, and solace to the swain.
Whose causeway parts the vale in shady rows,
Whose seats the weary traveller repose.
Who taught that heav'n directed spire to rise?
"The Man of Ross" each lisping babe replies. "
(Alexander Pope)
(Vaga is the Latin name for the river Wye)
TFM