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Yet, yet I live on, though forsaken and weeping!
-Oh grave! why refuse to the aged thy bed,
When valor's high heart on thy bosom is sleeping,
When youth's glorious flower is gone down to the dead!
Fair were ye, my sons! and all-kingly your bearing,
As on to the fields of your glory ye trode!
Each prince of my race the bright golden chain wearing,
Each eye glancing fire, shrouded now by the sod !*
I weep when the blast

the trumpet is sounding,
Which rouses ye not! O, my lovely! my brave!
When warriors and chiefs to their proud steeds are bounding,
I turn from heaven's light, for it smiles on your grave!t


(“Grufydd ab Rhys ab Tewdwr, having resisted the English suc

cessfully in the time of Stephen, and at last obtained froin them an honorable peace, made a great feast at his palace in Ystrad Tywi to celebrate this event. To this feast, which was continued for forty days, he invited all who would come in peace from Gwynedd, Powys, the Deheubarth, Glamorgan, and the marches Against the appointed time he prepared all kinds of delicious viands and liquors; with every entertainment of vocal and instrumental song; thus patronising the poets and musicians. He encouraged. too, all sorts of representations and manly games, and afterwards sent away all those who had excelled in them with honorable gifts."]-Vide Cambrian Biography.

LET the yellow mead shine for the sons of the brave,
By the bright festal torches around us that wave!
Set open the gates of the prince's wide hall,
And hang up the chief's ruddy spear on the wall !

There is peace in the land we have battled to save :
Then spread ye the feast, bid the wine-cup foam high,
That tliose may rejoice who have lear'd not to die !
Let the horn, whose loud blast gave the signal for fight,
Wich the bee's sunny nectar now sparkle in light, $

* “ Four and twenty sons to me have been,
Wearing the golden chain, and leading princes.'

Elegies of Llywarch Hen. The golden chain as a badge of honor, worn by heroes, is frequently alluded to in the works of the ancient British bards.

| “Hardly has the snow covered the vale,

When the warriors are hastening to the battle ;
I do not go, I am hinder'd by infirmity.”

Owen's Elegies of Llwarch Hen. † Wine, as well as mead, is frequently mentioned in the poems of the ancient British bards..

The horn was used for two purposes, to sound the alarm in war, and to drink the mead at feasts.

Let the rich draught it offers with gladness be crown'd,
For the strong hearts, in combat that leap'd at its sound!

Like the billow's dark swell, was the path of their mighi,
Red, red as their blood, fill the wine-cup on high,
That those may rejoice who have fear'd not to die!
And wake ye the children of song from their dreams,
On Maelor's wild hills, and by Dyfed's fair streams !*
Bid them haste with those strains of the lofty and free,
Which shall float down the waves of long ages to be.

Sheath the sword which hath given them unperishing themes, And pour the bright mead; let the wine cup foam high, That those may rejoice who have feard not to die!


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 :t
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 spirits 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 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 Unbennaeth Prydain, the monarchy of Britain. It has been conjectured that this poemi 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

* Maelor, part of the counties of Denbigh and Flint. Dyfed. (said to signify a land abounding with streams of water,) the modern Pembrokeshire.

† The aromatic odor of the pine has frequently been mentioned by travellers.

of the spoils, the bard, for the performance of this song, was re warded with the most valuable beast that remained.-See Jones's

Historical Account of the Welsh Bards.j
Sons of the Fair Isle !* forget not the time,
Ere spoilers had breath'd the free winds 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.
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 name shall be power,
Around her still gathering till glory's full hour,
Strong in the fame of the mighty that sleep,
Your Britain shall sit on the throne of the deep!
Then shall their spirits rejoice in her smile,
Who died for the crown of the Beautiful Isle !


[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 passid,
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 dwell

ing-place! I see from Uthyrist kingdom the sceptre pass away, And many a line of bards, and chiefs, and princely men decay.

* Ynys Prydain, the ancient name of Britain, signifies the Fair or Beautiful Island.

| Ynys y Cedeirn, or Isle of the Mighty, an ancient name given 10 Britain.

Uther 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



Saw ye the blazing star ?*
The heavens look down on freedom's war,

And light her torch on high !
Bright on the dragon crestt
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;
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!
Oh! eagles of the battle !f 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 year 1402 was ushered in with a comet or blazing star, which he bards interpreted as an omen favorable 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 vigor to their actions.-Vide PENNANT.

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

I "Bring the horn to Tudwrou, the Eagle of Battles."-Vide Tho Hirlas Horn, a poem by OWAIN CYFEILIOG. The eagle is a very fa vorite image with the ancient Welsh poets.

GWYNEDD (pronounced Gwyneth,) North Wales.

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 hear ?
Let those who wake the soul that dwells

On our free winds, beware!
The greenest and the loveliest dells

May be the lion's lair!
C! us they told, the seers
And monarch-bards of elder years,

Who walk'd on earth, as powers !
And in their burning strains,
A spell of might and mystery reigns,

To guard our mountain-towers !
-In Snowdon's caves a prophet lay:*

Before his gifted sight,
The march of ages pass'd away

With hero-footsteps bright,
But proudest in that long array,

Was Glyndwr's path of light!

Way lingers my gaze where the last hues of day,

On the hills of my country, in loveliness sleep?
Too fair is the sight for a wand'rer, whose way

Lies far o'er the measureless worlds of the deep!
Fall, shadows of twilight! and veil the green shore,
That the heart of the mighty may waver no more!
Why rise on my thoughts, ye free songs of the land

Where the harp's lofty soul on each wild wind is borne ?
Be hush'd, be forgotten for ne'er shall the hand

Of minstrel with melody greet my return.
-No! no !-let your echoes still float on the breeze,

my heart shall be strong for the conquest of seas!
'Tis not for the land of my sires, to give birth

Unto bosoms that shrink when their trial is nigh;
Away! we will bear over ocean and earth

A name and a spirit that never shall die.
My course to the winds, to the stars, I resign ;
But my soul's quenchless fire, O my country!'is thine.

* Merlin, or Merddin Emrys, is said to have composed his prophecies on the future lot of the Britons, amongst the mountains of Snow don. Many of these, and other ancient prophecies, were applied by Glyndwr to his own cause, and assisted him greatly in animauing the spirit of his followers.

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