'Hark, how each giant oak, and desert cave, Sighs to the torrent's awful voice beneath! O'er thee, O King! their hundred arms they wave, Revenge on thee in hoarser murmurs breathe ; Vocal no more, since Cambria's fatal day, To high-born Hoel's harp, or soft Llewellyn's lay. 1. 3. 'Cold is Cadwallo's tongue, That hushed the stormy main : Brave Urien sleeps upon his craggy bed: Mountains, ye mourn in vain Modred, whose magic song 1 Made huge Plinlimmon bow his cloud-topt head. The famished eagle screams, and passes by. Dear lost companions of my tuneful art, Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, Ye died amidst your dying country's criesNo more I weep. They do not sleep. On yonder cliffs, a griesly band, I see them sit, they linger yet, Avengers of their native land: With me in dreadful harmony they join, And weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line. II. I. 'Weave the warp, and weave the woof, The winding-sheet of Edward's race: The characters of hell to trace. 1 The shores of Caernarvonshire, opposite Anglesea. Mark the year, and mark the night, When Severn shall re-echo with affright The shrieks of death, through Berkley's roof that ring,' She-wolf of France, with unrelenting fangs, That tear'st the bowels of thy mangled mate, From thee be born, who o'er thy country hangs The scourge of heaven. What terrors round him wait! And sorrow's faded form, and solitude behind. II. 2. 'Mighty victor, mighty iord! Is the sable warrior fled? Thy son is gone. He rests among the dead. The swarm, that in thy noontide beam were born? Gone to salute the rising morn. Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows, In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes; Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm! That, hushed in grim repose, expects his evening prey. 1 Edward II, murdered in Berkeley Castle. Isabel of France, wife of Edward II. Edward III gained many victories in France. ✦ Edward III, deserted on his deathbed by his children and robbed in his last moments by his courtiers and mistress, who even drew away the rings off his fingers. 3 The Black Prince. 11. 3. 'Fill high the sparkling bowl, The rich repast prepare. Reft of a crown, he yet may share the feast: Fell Thirst and Famine scowl A baleful smile upon their baffled guest. Lance to lance, and horse to horse? Long years of havoc urge their destined course, 6 Twined with her blushing foe, we spread: Wallows beneath the thorny shade. Now, brothers, bending o'er the accursed loom, III. I. 'Edward, lo! to sudden fate (Weave we the woof. The thread is spun.) Half of thy heart we consecrate. 8 (The web is wove. The work is done.) 1 The wars of York and Lancaster. 2 The Tower of London, where Henry VI, George Duke of Clarence, Edward V, and Richard Duke of York, were supposed to be murdered. The oldest part of the structure is attributed to Julius Cæsar. 3 Margaret of Anjou. Henry VI, who was nearly canonized. . • Henry V. The white and red roses, devices of York and Lancaster. Richard III was usually known by the name of the Boar, from his device of the silver boar. Eleanor of Castile died a few years after the conquest of Wales. Stay, oh stay! nor thus forlorn Leave me unblessed, unpitied, here to mourn : But oh what solemn scenes on Snowdon's height Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul! III. 2. 'Girt with many a baron bold And gorgeous dames, and statesmen old In the midst a form divine ! Her eye proclaims her of the Briton-line; What strings symphonious tremble in the air, Bright Rapture calls, and soaring as she sings, 'The verse adorn again III. 3. Fierce war, and faithful love, And truth severe, by fairy fiction drest. 1 It was a common belief of the Welsh nation that King Arthur was still alive in Fairyland, and would return to reign over Britain. 2 Merlin and Taliessin had prophesied that the Welsh should regain their sovereignty over the island, which prophecy seemed to be accomplished in the House of Tudor. 3 Taliessin, chief of the bards, who flourished in the sixth century. In buskined measures1 move Pale grief, and pleasing pain, With horror, tyrant of the throbbing breast. Gales from blooming Eden bear; And distant warblings lessen on my ear, That lost in long futurity expire. Fond impious man, think'st thou yon sanguine cloud, Raised by thy breath, has quenched the orb of day? To-morrow he repairs the golden flood, And warms the nations with redoubled ray. Enough for me; with joy I see The different doom our fates assign. Be thine despair, and sceptred care, To triumph, and to die, are mine.' He spoke, and headlong from the mountain's height Deep in the roaring tide he plunged to endless night. 1 Shakespeare. 2 Milton. 3 The succession of poets, after Milton's time. |