Oft the proud feudal chief, whom human law Or kingly pow'r could bind not, nor control, Has paus'd before thy gates in holy awe, And felt religion's charm subdue his soul-- The heart that joy'd to hear the savage howl Of battle on the breeze, has soften'd been-- List'ning the hymns of peace that sweetly stole O'er this lone vale, where fancy's eye hath seen Forms bright and angel-like glide thro' thy vistas green: And angel forms here at thy altar knelt, Fair dames, and gentle maidens whose bright eyes The sternest heart of warrior-mould could melt, Soft'ning grim war with gen'rous sympathy-- Pleading, like pity wafted from the skies To quell the stormy rage of savage man: And hence the gentle manners had their rise-- Hence knights for lady's praise all dangers ran-- And thus, the glorious age of chivalry began. The Abbey derives its name (the Vale of the Cross) from a sepulchral monument commonly called "THE PILLAR OF ELISEG," which stands on an ancient tumulus in the middle of this beautifully secluded glen. It was erected by Cyngen ab Cadell Dryrnllug, in memory of his great grandfather Eliseg, whose son Brochmail Ysgythrog, grandfather of the founder of this rude monument of filial veneration, was engaged in the memorable border wars at the close of the sixth century; and was defeated at the Battle of Chester, A.D. 607. During the great rebellion this pillar was thrown down by Oliver Cromwell's "Reformers," who in their fiery zeal for destruction mistook it for a "Popish Cross;" and it remained for more than a century in its broken recumbent condition, when it was restored by the patriotism and intelligence of Mr. Lloyd of Trevor Hall, and replaced upon its pedestal with a suitable memorial to record the fact. It now forms an interesting relic of antiquity, and is probably the oldest British Cross (bearing a carved inscription) which exists in these islands. That said inscription has long been a puzzle to the learned investigator of archaeological remains. Having wandered through the verdant meads of the "happy valley," the adventurous tourist may probably wish to climb the lofty hill, which is crowned by the romantic ruins of the Castle of Dinas Bran. This memorable fortress of the past, is a remarkable object from all parts of the vale; for whose safety and defence it was long the abode of a line of chiefs renowned in Cambrian lore. The view from the summit is exceedingly picturesque, grand, and imposing; and naturally prompts the exclamation of the Poet of the Seasons-- "Heavens! what a goodly prospect spreads around."