PRINCE MADOC'S FAREWELL

241

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!"

PRINCE MADOC'S FAREWELL

WHY 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 wanderer, 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 hushed, be forgotten! for ne'er shall the hand

Of minstrel with melody greet my return.

-No! no-let our echoes still float on the breeze, And 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.

A

HOWEL'S SONG

[HOWEL AB EINION LLYGLIW was a distinguished bard of the fourteenth century. A beautiful poem, addressed by him to Myfanwy Vychan, a celebrated beauty of those times, is still preserved amongst the remains of the Welsh bards. The ruins of Myfanwy's residence, Castle Dinas Brân, may yet be traced on a high hill near Llangollen.]

PRESS on, my steed! I hear the swell 8
Of Valle Crucis' vesper-bell,

Sweet floating from the holy dell

O'er woods and waters round.
Perchance the maid I love, even now,
From Dinas Brân's majestic brow,
Looks o'er the fairy world below,
And listens to the sound!

I feel her presence on the scene!
The summer air is more serene,
The deep woods wave in richer green,
The wave more gently flows!

O fair as ocean's curling foam !9

Lo! with the balmy hour I come

The hour that brings the wanderer home,

The weary to repose!

Haste on each mountain's darkening crest

The glow hath died, the shadows rest,

The twilight star on Deva's breast

Gleams tremulously bright;

CASWALLON'S TRIUMPH

Speed for Myfanwy's bower on high !

Though scorn may wound me from her eye,
Oh! better by the sun to die,
Than live in rayless night!

243

CASWALLON'S TRIUMPH

["CASWALLON (or Cassivelaunus) was elected to the supreme command of the Britons, (as recorded in the Triads,) for the purpose of opposing Cæsar, under the title of Elected Chief of Battle. Whatever impression the disciplined legions of Rome might have made on the Britons in the first instance, the subsequent departure of Cæsar they considered as a cause of triumph; and it is stated that Caswallon proclaimed an assembly of the various states of the island, for the purpose of celebrating that event by feasting and public rejoicing."-Cambrian Biography.]

FROM the glowing southern regions,

Where the sun-god makes his dwelling,
Came the Roman's crested legions
O'er the deep, round Britain swelling.
The wave grew dazzling as he passed,
With light from spear and helmet cast;
And sounds in every rushing blast

Of a conqueror's march were telling.

But his eagle's royal pinion,

Bowing earth beneath its glory,
Could not shadow with dominion

Our wild seas and mountains holy !
Back from their cloudy realm it flies,
To float in light through softer skies;
O chainless winds of heaven, arise!

Bear a vanquished world the story!

Lords of earth! to Rome returning,
Tell how Britain combat wages,
How Caswallon's soul is burning
When the storm of battle rages!
And ye that shrine high deeds in song,
O holy and immortal throng!
The brightness of his name prolong,
As a torch to stream through ages

OWEN GLYNDWR'S WAR-SONG

["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.]

The heavens looked 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;
Hail ye, my bards! the omen fair
Of conquest and of fame,

And swell the rushing mountain air

With songs of Glyndwr's name.

* "Owen Glyndwr styled himself the Dragon; a name he assumed in imitation of Uthyr, whose victories over the Saxons were foretold by the appearance of a star with a dragon beneath,

OWEN GLYNDWR'S WAR-SONG

245

At the dead hour of night,

Marked ye how each majestic height
Burned in its awful beams?

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

10

O eagles of the battle,1o 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's 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?

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!

Of us they told, the seers

And monarch bards of elder years,

Who walked on earth as powers!

which Uthyr used as his badge; and on that account it became a favourite one with the Welsh."-PENNANT.

* Gwynedd, (pronounced Gwyneth,) North Wales.