"Of all that portion of the nave which occurs between the central tower and the western end, nothing remains but the outer wall of the southern aisle; the western end of it, however, still stands, and is a beautiful example of the richest and purest architecture of the middle of the thirteenth century. Over a central doorway, with deeply recessed mouldings and shafts, and with a bold dog-tooth ornament, each projection of which is elegantly carved into four converging fleurs-de-lys, occur three lofty windows, the central one taller than those at its sides--all with remarkably bold splays, both internally and externally, enriched with shafts and mouldings. The central window appears to have been of only one light, though broad, and to have had its arch occupied by a foliation of six cusps, and therefore of seven recesses,--the foliating spaces being solid. The side windows are each of two lights, the principal arch-head being solid, but pierced with a single aperture divided into six foliations. Above these three windows runs a kind of framework, analagous in some respects to that at the eastern end of the choir. The gable is pierced above these windows with a small but beautiful wheel-window of eight pointed compartments, each trifoliated; the divisions being moulded in one order, and converging to a central ring, itself pierced to admit the light. Above all is a square quatrefoliated aperture in the very apex of the gable. On the external face of the western end are two bold buttresses of a single stage, that on the south-eastern side being pierced with loopholes for a circular staircase formed in the thickness of itself and the wall." The Abbey of Valle Crucis was dissolved in the year 1535, and is said to have been the first of the Welsh monasteries which underwent the doom of abolition. Romantic Abbey! hallow'd be the rest Of those, who rear'd thee in this wild green vale A temple lovely as the place is blest-- And stern as beautiful:--but words would fail To paint thy ruin'd glories, though the gale Of desolation sweeps thro' thy hoar pile, And waves the long grass thro' thy cloisters pale Where the dark ivy scorns day's garish smile, And weed-grown fragments crown thy desecrated aisle. * * * * How sweet the sounds!--whose soft enchantments rose 'Mid those wild woodlands at the matin prime-- Or when the vesper song at evening's close Wafted the soul beyond the cares of time, To that Elysium of a brighter clime Where thro' heaven's portals golden vistas gleam, And the high harps of Seraphim sublime Came o'er the spirit like a prophet's dream, Till faded earth away on glory's endless beam.