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

Late, the same night; when sleeping, now, the dune,
Kowain, according to Duneda's word,
The saints leads forth; and that with guard of spears;
Convey them, erst, to certain forest place:
The second morrow, bring them to him on;
Where he, in field, at sanctuary holm,
Doth purpose sup. Kowain, passed Isca gates,
Them upland leads; till goes the moon to rest.

Weary the holy women, then, to wend;
In holt they lodge; where sweet green hazel boughs,
Be them, for bowers. They, without fear, there pass
That day and morrow next, till afternoon.

Through wood-glades, then, prince Kowain brings them on,
To croft; where well and cragged holy holm;
In whose old arms, hang, (superstitious gifts,
Of Britons,) horns of beasts and fluttering clouts.
Beneath that large pavilion of sheen leaves,

On mossy mould, lo, hassog mats displayed.
And here should come the king, to sup, from Isca.
Where now they halt; there lies, already slain,
A four-years' steer; and pleasant smell goes up,
Of roast; for cooks broil, yonder, at long hearths,
The fat. The saints here safe, till set of sun,
Await. Day glooming, shouted is, the chariots
Of king Duneda; and lords, with him, approach!

The sire now lights, in a war-glittering harness,
And kindly greets, (that him salute!) the strangers;
And calls, next him, to sit, in honoured place,
Among his captains. Sit, beyond, ringed round,
Duneda's champions, hundred men-at-arms.
Bear sewers in, then, loaves, in bascads white,
And flesh, on burdock leaves. And the king eats,
And lords and saints. And when, sith, on their hands,
Have water poured, the king's young men-at-arms;
They curmi and metheglyn, unto all, bear around.

In this, in the twilight, are nighing seen,
With speckled hoods and cloaks of gaudy green;
Men, bearing shields and spears: some Duffreynt bards,

Are those, that purpose to Duneda's wars.
Who leads them, is bold Melyn, royal bard;
That can both chant and fight. Of kings and warriors,
Each eve, should these sing the proud battle deeds;
In mortal tempest of swift shields and spears.
The king, to call those bards, to sup, sends Kamlan.

Sith, when have those well-drunken the lord's mead;
Duneda spake to Melyn, one whose arm,
Bears brazen targe, his right hand two sharp javelins;
And are his hardy looks, to warfare, stained,
With woad: yet, backward, hanging, at his nape,
From silver lace, a gentle crowth, behold.

Well couth he it touch, with heavenly piercing note,
Before Dumnonians, entering into fight.
Yet hath a warrior's praise, this, to hurl darts;
And lightfoot, to outrun the enemies' chariots.
But passing all, is, (the gods' gift, to few,
Whom they much love,) his skill of making well.

Duneda spake, that Melyn sing some lay,
Which breathed, in him, the gods. He would it were,
Of Avalon's isles; and namely of sacred Alban.

When Melyn took his rote, from off his neck,
Trembled the strings, stirred of a warbeling wind.
Then swelled the vates' breast, wherein there falls
Prophetic murmur, spirit of sweet song.
Of all the bards, whom nourisheth king Duneda,
First named, and for he elder is, is Bladyn;
But none, of Britain's bards, is more than Melyn.

Now husht sit Britons, when the valiant hands,
Of Melyn, who stands leaning on his targe,
Strook the bright chords, which gave a silver sound,
That thrilled the hearers' ears; and dream their hearts.
Gins Melyn, emuling late chant of Bladyn,
Record, how, in old days, days of the gods,
That wonne, now, in high glassy firmament,
What time, gods dwelled yet, in the world, as kings;
Their divine children came to Avalon god's
Fair garden of apples: unto banquet called,
Of Lîr, who lord is named of the five seas;
Expecting the return of his twelve sons,
That, wooers, in twelve ships, were sailed from Alban.
And set forth was that navy; to bring home,

The twelve affianced daughters of bright isles,
Of Brigida, daughter of the golden sun.

Then was dark spirits of the aery deep,
(Grudging, because they were not called to feast,)
Transfigured them, to rushing tempests, rive
Their broidered sails; and having numbed, by spells,
The mariners' hearts, amongst vast tumbling billows;
So that the oars fall from their idle hands!

To an isle of strong enchantments, they them cast
That deemed the sons of Lîr, was this the isle,
Of Brigida; and they leapt, in haste, to shore,
Out of their keels. But swallows up that deep,
The sand, beneath their feet; and from their ships,
Parts, which behind them burn, that sailed from Alban.

Red flames, before them, seen; of the sun's isle,
His crown of rays, they deem: and, with stout heart
Assay, those brethren, break through to their loves.
But kindles all that soil, with glowing heat;
So that they do consume away, as mounts
The sun, with anguish of their mortal part!

The same hour, in their isle, from thence far off;
Those divine daughters, from their bower of grass,
At dawning ray, already dight, dance forth,
To welcome in their spouses and their loves;
And still, unto their island strand, they watch.

But the envious spirits, which have no power, at all,
In the sun's isle, made seem, by magic spell,
The appearance, in the sea, of ships that sail:
And falsely, of cloud, made seem a clodded strand.
And limned therein, as princes which ascend.

Them veiled the divine maidens, that with joy,
Then, singing, hand in hand, in gracious wise,
Begin, with tinkling feet, dance to their loves.
Till, from cloud-cliffs, them seeming a fast ground,
They, with dread shrieks, fall headlong, to deep shore!

Dagda, (who father of all gods is named,)
That sees the world, in rundle of his targe,
Like a steel glass, these extreme haps beheld;
And sate, somewhile, in doubt. Then Dagda changed,
His son Lîr's sons, to swans of mighty wing!
The daughters of his daughter, Brigida,
To wailful curlews: (whence, are lapwinged fowl,
And swans, held sacred, mongst all tribes of Britons.)

Then Dagda sent forth, bondman of the gods,
Creef, seed of giants old. Creef was not slain,
In their destruction, being yet a child;
But pity found, at hearthstone of the gods.
Those spirits sleeping, after wicked deed,
Creef, (Hundred-handed, for his immense force,
Named,) took in a sea-cave. Creef, o'er them, cast

Inextricable net of subtle brass!
Which Goibniu forged, artificer of the gods.
Creef, in a sack, them bare forth, on his neck,
To those false isles, and that deceitful cliff;
And hanged, in midst of windy flames, whereas,
Aye-wrathful god of tempest daily breathes,
On hooks; that divine smith, with angry heart,
Wrought; and sith clenched, with sledge of adamant.

But riding, the next year, with his swan-sons,
In his cloud-chariot, Lîr, mongst watery gods;
To visit Lug, (thus hight is the sun-god,)
With divine cry, that isle spurned with his foot;
And billows overran the magic rock:
And whelmed, wrath of grieved gods, immense salt deep.
His garden of apples, sith, the god defaced.
Riding before salt billows, Lîr them leads,
O'er Alban's plain; and made it mere and fen.

On Alban knolls, sith, dwelled huge Yotun brood,
Till they, contemners of sky-dwelling gods;
Fighting gainst neighbour giants, of Mendip hills,
Ebar and Chedar and Eriol, soaked with blood,
The soil: and yet gore-stained, that fenny ooze
Is seen; whence Taran them, with venging lightning,
Off-slew. Their corses sunk to the mere's ground,

Half-quick; and sometimes, like wide-flickering flame,
Their ghosts ben seen, yet, flit, o'er the foul fen.

There ended he: all clashing warlike arms,
Applaud and say; it was a golden story.
Reached forth his own war-spear, the king's high hand,
That seemed, with silver rings, some serpent sheen;
Whose gilded tongue, athirst for enemies' gore,
This purple-glooming air doth gride. And sent
It, to the warlike bard, the king, by Kowain;
In sign of his and all these hearers' praise;
And gold, for his dispense, in the king's wars.
Joyed Melyn, in his valiant hands, receiving
The lord's war-gift and purse; and to swart Camulus,
His battle-god, the warrior-bard prays loud,
Might this dart drink, first, the king's enemies' blood!

A certain railing young lord, friend to Aesgar,
Hearing those went to Avalon, under ward,
Quoth, looking on them, still, in 'sdainful wise,
Well were those watery holms, to such, assigned;
Which come from far o'er-seas, gainsay our gods.
In Alban's infect air, might those soon perish!
Mongst barking frogs and outlaws fugitives.

Welsh hesg: a kind of sedge.

Welsh cwrw, Old Irish cuirm: a kind of beer.

Welsh medd, mead; and llyn, liquor.

The parts of Avalon.