neille existed here as early as the reign of Stephen. On the north side of the chapel of this priory are Roman bricks. The present parish church includes most of its remains, and forms a curious specimen of Norman architecture, particularly the western entrance. The old gate is an interesting picce of antiquity, but much injured by time.

The bridge over the Wye is substantial and elegant, consisting of five iron arches resting on stone piers. It is five hundred and thirty-two feet long; the centre arch is one hundred and ten feet, and the other two, on each side of it, seventy and fifty-four feet each in span. It has been remarked, that the tide rises higher here than in any other place in the kingdom-from fifty to sixty feet. The reason assigned is, that the rocks of Beachley and Aust, which project into the Severn immediately above the Wye, cause such an extraordinary swell that the stream is impelled up this river.

At Chepstow I went on board a steam-vessel for Bristol, with the intention of taking the packet from thence to Tenby the following morning. Proceeding steadily down the Wye, it was observable that the fair and clear mountain-stream had changed to a broad and stately river. Picturesque cliffs flank her course on the left, displaying a curiously-varied stratification, and crowned with overhanging wood. On the right, the gradually-rising ground soon exhibited the remains of the ancient town wall, or, as it is now called, the Port Wall, fortified by numerous round towers, on an apparently artificial elevation. Gliding smoothly on, in the golden light of an autumn afternoon (for my wanderings had now extended from spring to the first month

M

of that rich season of the year), I soon found the river widening rapidly, and recognising Aust cliffs, and the little ruined shrine of St. Tecla, on its island rock, I knew that the Wye here mingled her waves with those of her sister stream, the Severn.

I might finish my Wye explorations very fitly in the words of Mr. Gray:-"The very principal light and capital feature of my journey was the river Wye, which I descended in a boat for nearly forty miles, from Ross to Chepstow. Its banks are a succession of nameless beauties."

Old Ocean! how I love thy roar; it seems

To my attentive ear as though it sung

Of ancient days, and had grown hoarse with age.

The jargon of old Babel wand'rers has been

Beside thy waters. Thou hast caught the sound,

And speak'st all languages. In thy soft calm voice,
The whisp'ring music from Idalian groves
Comes richly fraught with perfumed melody.
That earnest sigh, drawn from thy depths and caves,
Is vocal with the tale of wrecks, -as sad

As the last breath of gasping, drowning men,
Or stranded mariner, from some desert isle,
Sending his soul homeward. Thy stormy voice
Gathers the shout of hosts and multitudes

That erst have thronged thy shores. Thy rolling waves
Are a deep trackless path to distant lands;

And east and west, and north and south, are joined
By thee in fellowship, as one great family.

THE OLD BARD.

THE county of Pembroke pushes boldly forward in the form of a broad rugged promontory, on its western. and northern sides, into the wide world of waters, touching easterly the counties of Cardigan and Carmarthen. The reader who has followed me from the pictured valleys and wood-crowned hills of the beautiful Wye, which the hand of man has so profusely deco