THE CAMBRIAN IN AMERICA.

WHEN the last flush of eve is dying

On boundless lakes afar that shine; When winds amidst the palms are sighing, And fragrance breathes from every pine:* When stars through cypress-boughs are gleaming, And fire-flies wander bright and free, Still of thy harps, thy mountains dreaming, My thoughts, wild Cambria! dwell with thee! Alone o'er green savannas roving,

Where some broad stream in silence flows, Or through th' eternal forests moving,

One only home my spirit knows!

Sweet land, whence memory ne'er hath parted!
To thee on sleep's light wing I fly;

But happier could the weary-hearted
Look on his own blue hills and die!

THE FAIR ISLE.+

FOR THE MELODY CALLED THE WELSH GROUND."

[The Bard of the Palace, under the ancient Welsh Princes, always accompanied the army when it marched into an enemy's country; and, while it was preparing for battle or dividing the spoils, he performed an ancient song, called

* The aromatic odour of the pine has frequently been mentioned by travellers.

+ Ynys Prydain was the ancient Welsh name of Britain, and signifies fair or beautiful isle.

Unbennaeth Prydain, the Monarchy of Britain. It has been conjectured that this poem referred to the tradition of the Welsh, that the whole island had once been possessed by their ancestors, who were driven into a corner of it by their Saxon invaders. When the prince had received his share of the spoils, the bard, for the performance of this song, was rewarded with the most valuable beast that remained. See JONES's Historical Account of the Welsh Bards.]

SONS of the Fair Isle! forget not the time

Ere spoilers had breathed the free air of your clime: All that its eagles behold in their flight

Was yours, from the deep to each storm-mantled height.

Though from your race that proud birthright be torn,

Unquench'd is the spirit for monarchy born.

CHORUS.

Darkly though clouds may hang o'er us awhile, The crown shall not pass from the Beautiful Isle.

Ages may roll ere your children regain

The land for which heroes have perish'd in vain;
Yet, in the sound of your names shall be power,
Around her still gathering in glory's full hour.
Strong in the fame of the mighty that sleep,
Your Britain shall sit on the throne of the deep.

CHORUS.

Then shall their spirits rejoice in her smile,
Who died for the crown of the Beautiful Isle.

TALIESIN'S PROPHECY.

[A prophecy of Taliesin relating to the Ancient Britons is still extant, and has been strikingly verified. It is to the following effect :

"Their God they shall worship,

Their language they shall retain,
Their land they shall lose,

Except wild Wales."]

A VOICE from time departed yet floats thy hills among, O Cambria! thus thy prophet bard, thy Taliesin sung : "The path of unborn ages is traced upon my soul, The clouds which mantle things unseen away before me roll,

A light the depths revealing hath o'er my spirit pass'd,

A rushing sound from days to be swells fitful in the blast,

And tells me that for ever shall live the lofty tongue To which the harp of Mona's woods by freedom's hand was strung.

"Green island of the mighty!* I see thine ancient race Driven from their fathers' realm to make the rocks their dwelling-place!

I see from Uthyr'st kingdom the sceptre pass away, And many a line of bards and chiefs and princely men decay.

* Ynys y Cedeirn, or Isle of the Mighty-an ancient name given to Britain.

+ Uthyr Pendragon, king of Britain, supposed to have been the father of Arthur.

But long as Arvon's mountains shall lift their sovereign forms,

And wear the crown to which is given dominion o'er the storms,

So long, their empire sharing, shall live the lofty tongue

To which the harp of Mona's woods by freedom's hand was strung!"

SAW

OWEN GLYNDWR'S WAR-SONG.

ye the blazing star?*

The heavens look'd down on freedom's war,
And lit her torch on high!

Bright on the dragon crest+

It tells that glory's wing shall rest,
When warriors meet to die!

Let earth's pale tyrants read despair
And vengeance in its flame;

* The year 1402 was ushered in with a comet or blazing star, which the bards interpreted as an omen favourable to the cause of Glyndwr. It served to infuse spirit into the minds of a superstitious people, the first success of their chieftain confirmed this belief, and gave new vigour to their actions. PENNANT.

Owen Glyndwr styled himself the Dragon; a name he assumed in imitation of Uthyr, whose victories over the Saxons were foretold by the appearances of a star with a dragon beneath, which Uthyr used as his badge; and on that account it became a favourite one with the Welsh.-PENNANT.

Hail ye, my bards! the omen fair
Of conquest and of fame,
And swell the rushing mountain air
With songs to Glyndwr's name.

At the dead hour of night,

Mark'd ye how each majestic height
Burn'd in its awful beams?

Red shone th' eternal snows,
And all the land, as bright it rose,
Was full of glorious dreams!

O eagles of the battle,* rise!

The hope of Gwynedd wakes!+

It is your banner in the skies

Through each dark cloud which breaks,

And mantles with triumphal dyes

Your thousand hills and lakes!

A sound is on the breeze,

A murmur as of swelling seas!

The Saxon on his way!

Lo! spear and shield and lance,
From Deva's waves, with lightning glance,
Reflected to the day!

But who the torrent-wave compels

A conqueror's chain to bear?

* "Bring the horn to Tudwrou, the Eagle of Battles.”—See The Hirlas Horn of OWAIN CYFEILIOG. The eagle is a very favourite image with the ancient Welsh poets.

† GWYNEDD, (pronounced Gwyneth,) North Wales.