During the tremendous gales from the north, in January and February,
1802, the _Die Liebe_, a Dutch galliot, bound from Rotterdam to Ireland,
and the _Brothers_, of Liverpool, were wrecked near Penrhos, the first at
midnight, where the unfortunate sufferers found all the comfort and
attention which beneficence, united to influence, can so happily bestow,
under the hospitable roof of the late Lady Stanley.
Mr. Richard Llwyd, in his “Lines addressed to the Thrush, in the Garden
at Penrhos,” alludes to this melancholy catastrophe,
A happier day, dear chorister, is thine,
A grave unhaunted by the tread of fear;
A little forest, free from kites and crime,
When music only meets thy listening ear,—
Save when the Demon of the boisterous North
Rushed through the gloom of night with sullen roar,
Led from destruction’s den the Furies forth,
To roll his dying victims on the shore.
’Twas thine amid the raging of the storm,
To see thy Stanley disappoint the grave;
Tread the dread beach in Charity’s mild form,
And bid her Penrhos ope’ its doors to save.
And thine as playful in these flow’ry glades,
To hear the prayer ascend to Mercy’s throne,
To hear from strangers, shelter’d in these shades,
The grateful blessings breath’d in tongues {59} unknown.