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A wondrous boy shall Rinda bear,
Who ne'er shall comb his raven hair,
Nor wash his visage in the stream,
Nor see the sun's departing beam,
Till he on Hoder's corse shall smile
Flaming on the funeral pile.
Now my weary lips I close :
Leave me, leave me to repose.


Yet a while my call obey;
Prophetess, awake, and say,
What virgins these, in speechless woe
That bend to earth their solemn brow,

her pouch full of magical instruments. Her busking were of rough calf-skin, bound on with thongs studded with knobs of brass, and her gloves of white cat-skin, the fur turned inwards,” &c. They were also called Fiolkyngi, or Fiolkunnug, i. e. Multiscia; and Visin. dakona, i. e. Oraculorum Mulier ; Nornir, i. e. l'arcæ. GRAY.

Ver. 66. Who ne'er shall comb his raven hair] King Harold made (according to the singular custom of his time) a solemn vow never to clip or comb his hair, till he should have extended his sway over the whole country.

Herbert's Iceland. Translat. p. 39. Ver. 75. What virgins these, in speechless woe] “ It is not certain,” says Mr. Herbert,“ what Odin means by the question concerning the weeping virgins ; but it has been supposed that it alludes to the embassy

That their flaxen tresses tear,
And snowy veils that float in air ?
Tell me whence their sorrows rose;
Then I leave thee to repose.


Ha! no traveller art thou,
King of


I know thee now
Mightiest of a mighty line-


No boding maid of skill divine
Art thou, nor prophetess of good ;
But mother of the giant brood !


Hie the hence, and boast at home,
That never shall inquirer come

afterwards sent by Frigga to try to redeem Balder from the infernal regions, and that Odin betrays his divinity by nientioning what had not yet happened.” Iceland. Translat. p. 48.

Ver. 86. But mother of the giant brood] In the Latin “mater trium gigantum :" probably Angerbode, who from her name seems to be “no prophetess of good; ” and who bore to Lok, as the Edda says, three children, the wolf Fenris, the great serpent of Midgard, and Hela, all of them called giants in that system of mythology. MASON.

To break my iron sleep again,
Till Lok has burst his tenfold chain
Never, till substantial night
Has reassumed her ancient right;
Till wrapp'd in flames, in ruin hurl'd,
Sinks the fabric of the world,



From Mr. Evans's Specimens of the Welsh Poetry:

London, 1764, quarto, p. 25, and page 127. Ower. succeeded his father, Griffith app Cynan, in the principality of North Wales, A.D. 1137. This battle was fought in the year 1157.

Jones's Relics, vol. ii. p. 36.

Owen's praise demands my song,
Owen swift, and Owen strong;

Ver. 90. Till Lok has burst his tenfold chain) Lok is the evil being, who continues in chains till the trilight of the gods approaches: when he shall break his bonds, the human race, the stars, and sun, shall disappear; the earth sink in the seas, and fre core sume the skies : even Odin himself and his kindred deities shall perish. Mason.

* The original Welsh of the above poern was the composition of Gwalchmai the son of Melır, minediately after Prince Owen Gwynedd had defeated

Fairest flower of Roderic's stem,
Gwyneth's shield, and Britain's gem
He nor heaps his brooded stores,
Nor on all profusely pours;
Lord of every regal art,
Liberal hand and open heart.

Big with hosts of mighty name,
Squadrons three against him came ;
This the force of Eirin hiding,
Side by side as proudly riding,
On her shadow long and gay
Lochlin ploughs the watery way,
There the Norman sails afar
Catch the winds and join the war :
Black and huge along they sweep,
Burdens of the angry deep.
Dauntless on his native sands
The dragon son of Mona stands;
In glittering arms and glory dress'd,
High he rears his ruby crest.

the combined fleets of Iceland, Denmark, and Nor. way, which had invaded his territory on the coast of Anglesea.

Ver. 4. Gwyneth] North Wales.
Ver. 14. Lochlin] Denmark.

Ver. 20. The dragon son of Mona stands] The red Dragon is the device of Cadwallader, which all his descendants bore on their banners. MASON.

There the thundering strokes begin,
There the press, and there the din;
Talymalfra’s rocky shore
Echoing to the battle's roar.
Check'd by the torrent tide of blood,
Backward Meinai rolls his flood;
While, heap'd his master's feet around,
Prostrate warriors gnaw the ground.
Where his glowing eyeballs turn,
Thousand banners round him burn,
Where he points his purple spear,
Hasty, hasty rout is there,
Marking with indignant eye
Fear to stop, and shame to fly.
There confusion, terror's child,
Conflict fierce, and ruin wild,
Agony, that pants for breath,
Despair and honourable death.

Ver. 23. There the thundering strokes begin] “ It scems (says Dr. Evans, p. 26,) that the fleet landed in some part of the Firth of Menai, and that it was a kind of mixed engagement, some âghting from the shore, others from the ships : and probably the great slaughter was owing to its being low water, and that they could not sail..

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