48. DAYS THAT HAVE BEEN
Reading edition
Can I forget the sweet days that have been, When poetry first began to warm my blood; When from the hills of Gwent I saw the earth Burned into two by Severn's silver flood:
When I would go alone at night to see The moonlight, like a big white butterfly, Dreaming on that old castle near Caerleon, While at its side the Usk went softly by:
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When I would stare at lovely clouds in Heaven, Or watch them when reported by deep streams; When feeling pressed like thunder, but would not Break into that grand music of my dreams?
Can I forget the sweet days that have been, The villages so green I have been in; Llantarnam, Magor, Malpas, and Llanwern, Liswery, old Caerleon, and Alteryn?
Can I forget the banks of Malpas Brook, Or Ebbw's voice in such a wild delight, As on he dashed with pebbles in his throat, Gurgling towards the sea with all his might?
Ah, when I see a leafy village now I sigh and ask it for Llantarnam's green; I ask each river where is Ebbw's voice— In memory of the sweet days that have been.
William H. Davies.