The Dawn in Britain :: :: University of Virginia Library

This morrow, fair, by their account, is feast,
Of the full moon; which first they see, in Britain:
Wherefore, with holiday in their hearts, Christ's brethren
Now issue to the springing river's mead;
Praising Him, Who, out of vast deep, them saved.

They pass, before the haven of Isca's ships!
Where gather sea-folk to them, on the quay.
Mongst whom, by Pistos' mouth, gan Ithobal say:
Shipfare 's an image of our life; O men
And brethren, that wont trade forth, on the Main;
Seldwhile in lissom weather, smooth and still.
Ware, steady at the helms! aye ready to shift sail.
And where we furl, in haven, or lie in road;
Eftsoon, we must prepare us to depart.
But, shipferes, we have found, in our late voyage,

The true lodestar; whence, lightly, we account,
Of our ship's wreck, and all our charges' loss!

Come to the silver-streaming river's brinks,
Under bee-murmuring boughs of linden sweet;
In raiment clean, upon the daisy grass,
They sit; and cheerful hours spend, till high noon
Nigh draws. The saints, then, rise up, to turn home.

Yonder, mounts, from the ferry, some poor man;
Lo, is Tegid, teamster, to the brethren known;
Which lately drave their wain; from Amathon's dune.
And, as this wends, he weeps: was laid arrest
Now, in the water's ford, on those few beasts,
Whereof is all his children's livelihood.

Tell forth, who follow with the swonken wretch;
This morn, they his poor goods, saw strained, for debt;
His babes haled to the merchants, to be sold.
Lifted, this weary wight, his eyes; and seeing,
Where pass before him, by the river's brink,
Those strangers, to them runs; and panting asks,
Of help, (and they might aught,) in his distress;
With whom was power found of some healing god.

Is Tegid's caban this, without the walls;
Whereto they now arrive. Is there none voice,

Of wife or child, to welcome his come-home.
It empty is, from roof-tree, to the floor.
And Tegid, who, a little corn, not hath;
(Whereof, before men strangers and hearth-guests,
He might aught set, which his poor threshold pass,
As custom is,) amongst them stands confused!

When Joseph, voice of Britons, understood;
Moved with compassion, servant strong, in faith,
Of Christ; and lifting holy hands, towards Throne
Of heaven, he bade sweep forth the waggoner's cote.
Then charged he Tegid, pour, (his beasts' meat,) out;
What little rests of grain, in his poor wallet.

Falls forth the corn; nor ceaseth it yet to run,
From Tegid's hand! till that poor bower and hall,
Is full, like garner, to the very door.
Before the threshold, neighbour women sweep:
Then, joyous, spread their mantles on the street;
Whereon, eftsoon, outrun are new great heaps!

Then Joseph spake; Enough! go sell this good,
Which gives thee God. Parts running that poor man;
And with glad heart, the brethren saints wend home.
He, with blithe cheer, hies to their market street,
Under the hill; whom seemeth all, yet, a dream;
His wife and children small, to ransom home.

Try, who corn-masters, samples in their palms;
And it, in measure, hew and poise, appraise
Best grain of all; whereof each one some buys;
Numbering to Tegid silver rings and bronze,
Or tin. And whilst those merchants question still,
He gladly, and like to one beside his mind,
His wife and children small, for price, redeemed.
And very beautiful is his poor spouse;
Was evil his intent, which on them seized.

But noised this wonder, in the street, anon;
Came voice, from mouth to mouth, up from the town,
To the king's ears. Bethought him of his dream,
Duneda; and sent one of his guard, to call
Before him, Tegid in: who, come, eftsoon,
The sire requires, and, with that poor wight, questions;
What is that new thing, which of him, he hears?

The men, lord, that us seemed some ship-wrecked strangers,
Quoth Tegid, are come, surely, from the gods!
He, also, yester, saw, was their wain-path,
Whereby, from Amathon's dune, the strangers passed,
(Even as wont footsteps of the holy gods!)
In wide green field, grown fairer than the rest,

With new-sprung grass! Like gods, those came, unwist
From whence, Duneda, and they healed Kowain's wound.

The lord liked of the waggoner's bold speech.
He sends, call Amathon's son. His messenger, Kowain
Finds not: nor yet returned that prince; who ridden
Was, home, to gather wains and armament.
He sends, again, then, for those shipwrecked strangers.

All yield them room, when they come in, with Kamlan.
They see then sitting certain, in mead-hall,
Before Duneda, in rotchets of white lawn;
Men of dark looks, and much like Corbelo's druids;
Whose foreheads bound with the sheen leaves of holm.

The gravity sits, lo, on an equal throne,
Beside Duneda, of the high-druid Aesgar;
In the mid-bay; where burn, with rushen wicks,
And fat, two lamps, hight Con and Cran; whose bowls
Inlaid, (renowned smith's work,) of fretted bronze,
With gold. Them Camlogenos, king in Gaul,
Sent hither, with his son; ere Roman wars.

Hearers of Aesgar sit, round these high walls,

Mongst white-stoled druids; lords' sons, some of West march,
And Deheubarth; but are the most ones strangers,
Young noblemen of Llydaw; (which, Part-of-Gallia,
Comata, is now named, of all-conquering Rome!)
Their wont is tarry, in Isca, one year's space;
To learn the chanted arcane discipline,
Of Aesgar's druids; and are they, there, king's guests.
Wreaths shine of gold, on all their haughty necks.
Beyond them, sit, who chief ones of the town.

And now is eve; when kindled be long hearths,
In the hall's midst; and hanged round on these walls,
Be brands of cloven pine. The people husht;
From his high stall, erst Aesgar, slowly, speaks:
Touching a wonder hath, to-day, been seen;
Are we now come together. Shipwrecked strangers!
I you appose; by what power or strong spell,
Ye do these things? King of Duffreynt and druids!
Deathworthy adjudged are, by Dunwallon's laws,

Who bring in other gods. I ask of these
Strangers, what deem they, of Isle Britain's gods?

Before them all, stood up then Aristobulus,
Kinsman of Jesus; and by Pistos' mouth,
Spake; Princes, elders, people of this town,
Know that our God, He who upholds the world,
Whose Throne, yond starred high crystal firmament;
Who gives, to all men, kindly life and breath,
Hath wrought this sign, which ye, to-day, have seen.
Who being Himself invisible, yet All-seeing,
Is Everliving, Infinite, as the Sea;
Which closing-in the world, is closed of naught.
Before all-thing, (which He hath made,) He was;
The infinite, only, God. He Father is,
(He One,) of all: and is His Heavenly Voice,
That Whisper which is heard in every place,
And in all hearts! So, with an angel's face,
The saint sate down. Sith king Duneda spake;

Was Dawn divine named, Firstborn of the gods.
Thing incorruptible, also, undying is;
Whence, being, of one celestial fire, our spirits;
(I speak to druids,) they shall not, utterly, perish!
With the vile sloughy garment of this flesh.

But answered the dark gravity of Aesgar;
Who sits, at his right hand, with lowering looks:
Methought, Duneda, arrived, in evil hour,
These uncouth strangers, men that shipwrecked were.
Behold their swarty favour; such as wont
Be pirates' looks, and men of wicked life!
Expulsed, abhorred of all men, these have sailed;
And broken have gods, of this sea-deep, their ship,
(Gods, whom most worship the Dumnonians!)
Were such not, peradventure, homicides;
Whom angry heavens have ever since pursued?
Ben not there jugelours, men, whose whispered spells,

Have power even to compel the wavering winds;
Aye and even the stars of heaven wrest, from their courses?
Have not such made snow fall, in Summer season;
Other appearance shown, in the air, of ships;
Some, Summer fruits, in days of Winter-feast?
And yet I say; if those blasphemed our gods,
Should such not die? Wherefore my sentence is,
Be banned these men from borders of Duffreynt.

But answered Cadvan, grave and ancient lord;
Next him, who sits, with reverend beard and looks;
(Nigh kinsman, to Duneda, and Amathon's friend:)
Why proffer railing words, gainst the king's guests?
But, aye, thy wont was, Aesgar, to despise
The poor. And if heaven's lightning burned their vessel,
They hallowed are, according to our laws.
Ween'st thou, there ben none other gods, than ours?

But what and if, (which, these men's deeds, declare,)
A breath be in them, of the holy gods,
Which Eryr saw, in his prophetio vision.

At this word, rose displeasantly the high druid!
As smoke unto the eyes; and smell of corse,
Is in men's nostrils, such, is name of Eryr,
In Aesgar's ears; who, midst king's hall, goes forth.
Follow sourfaced disciples of these druids.
The people open lane for their proud steps;
And those, no man saluting, stately pass.

The king commands, Mix, and bear round sweet mead,
And barley-ale! And, whilst the Britons drink;
Was stir, at door, now in the lower hall:
Where two men, running-eremites, be come in;
Whose knees, kiss, reverent, and their lean hands Britons:
Men lean of flesh and blackened, in the sun,
And without garments, save some woollen cloth,
Wound round their loins; unkempt their long hair locks,
Their beards, like Autumn leaves. Upon a lace,
Depend, of silver, on their panting chests,
Bright crystal stones, from Avon's river strand:

Whereon, they looking, image of clear souls,
Recomfort still their hearts. And, on the stars,
They gaze, by night, and seldwhiles on dark earth.

Impelled their feet, as by some god, to-night;
The river, to Caer Isca gates, these passed.
Eremites, unwont, in any town, to tread:
They will not sit, nor eat bread, nor taste mead;
Though brought in crystal cup, to them, is mead.
But, gazing on the saints, anon, they ask;
What message bring these men, of heavens' light?

Then Pistos answered; they had heard God's Voice,
Saying, Love your enemies, Blessed be the pure
And lowly, in heart: be children of that Light.
An eremite spake, and bowed him to the hearth;
O thou that sittest on throne, lord of Duffreynt,
Son of high sires, descended from the gods!
Holy are their words; and like the words of Eryr,
The eagle-borne; who naked, without bower,
Lodged in sharp cliffs; where, brought him, each day, meat,

The fowls of heaven, wild berries, in their beaks;
And were all forest-beasts, to Eryr, meek.

Much Eryr spake of washings, which should purge
Our soul, from death: and, daily, in water-brooks,
He dipped his flesh; and prayed, bear down his guilt,
From God's remembrance. Dwells, he said, our spirit,
In darkness and disease, the body's guest.
But purged from the vile raiment of this corse,
It shall, to stars, of new, ascend from death.
Till then, our body should be like to lamp,
Wherein do shine our souls! His fellow, quoth;
How shall a man, born of man's unclean seed,
Attain, dread gods! to pure immortal stars?
Whose wretched days are strife, for weed and bread:
Whose perplext path is darkness; and whose end,

His fleshes death, and griesly rottenness!
He ceased; and those both turned them, to go forth.

Arose then, in moot-hall, new grave discourse,
Of war toward; and Duffreynt's power and chariots:
And what allies should, with Duneda, march;
And how would Hafren, soon, Silures pass.
Yet other make debate, of signs and omens;
Wherein men, of the blindness of their hearts,
Ween; should foreshow them, things to come, those gods;
Which their own thoughts imagined, and hands wrought!

Whilst long they sit by louver, of the thatch;
Where stars, in night's swart deep, erst, shining forth;
Pale light falls, on grey embers of their hearth.
Lo, dawning ray! and mingled sweet consent,
Already, of early birds, is heard, without.
The morrow brings new thoughts: uprose Duneda;
The king goes forth. Uprose, then, all the rest:
The brethren also; on whom Britons gaze,
Some kind, some with fell looks of adversaries!
Duneda beckons, friendly, with his hand.

Llyd-aw, (that which lies along the water;) now Bretagne, and part of Normandy.