University of Virginia Library

Now back to Snowdon, over hill and dale,
Llewellyn sped, upon futurity
Gazing with solemnized, yet dauntless brow.
From Aber's walls, it was a goodly sight,
When o'er the neighbouring mountain, with fair speed,
The Cambrians saw their Prince. Each onward rush'd
To greet the other. Lo, they meet, and shouts
Teem thro' the air, whilst a tumultuous sight
Marks their conjunction, friend embracing friend,
And warrior warrior hailing, till they turn
And in one body urge their friendly way.
So 'mid the winter months, when two stout streams
Swoln by dissolving snows, meet in one point,
Awhile the conflict reigns, and loud the shock
Of wave with wave commmingling, till, at length,
The first rough greetings o'er, with even course
And silently, both on together flow.

'Neath Aber's princely roof, the Cambrian chiefs,
Llewellyn at their head, communing stand.
The Prince inquires, “What of the English King?
“Hath he propounded honourable terms
“And fair adjustment of our jealousies,
“Since our departure? Ah! you answer not!
“I know the sovereign passion of his soul—
“The venom of his heart. He seeks alone
“Cambria's subjection. Pleasant is your smile!
“And ominous of your approaching deeds.”
Llewellyn told how Gloster's towers were rased,
How Talbot fled his wrath. He sought to speak
Of his loved Eleanor, but ere his tongue
Utter'd her name, his faltering speech betray'd
Internal conflict, and as thus he stood,
Collecting his firm spirit, to the hall
A Cambrian came, and to his Prince advanced.
Thus he began.

“Lord of the Snowdon hills,
“Sad tidings mine! David, e'en Griffith's son,
“Thy Brother, with the English King hath join'd,
“And sworn him fealty!” At the news, each heart
Sank with dismay, and momentary fear
Shot thro' their veins. Llewellyn loud exclaim'd,

“Cambrians! on you I rest! With your support
“I have a host too valiant to deplore
“The loss of David. Let him bend his spear
“Against his bleeding country! let him hurl,
“On her who nourish'd him, dark matricide!
“The murderous lance! the barb will back return
“From the repellent rock, and his own heart
“Pierce with the scorpion's sting. Far other hopes,
“O David! I, alas! had form'd of thee,
“My faithless brother! I had thought thy veins
“Fill'd with the Patriot's blood, and that thy heart
“Beat valiantly, with the inspiring thoughts,
“And bold resolves, which fill'd thine ancestors.
“Thy rose is wither'd! To the dust go down,
“And perish with the base-born sons of earth.”

While thus Llewellyn spake, with other news,
One to the spot came posting and exclaim'd,
“O Prince! thy brother David, at this hour,
“Marches thro' Powis, calling on all men
“To join his standard, and support the cause
“Of Edward, England's king. His treachery,
“Already hath obtain'd one meed, and now
“He stands, an English Knight! proud of the plume!”

Llewellyn sigh'd and said. “This is indeed
“A bitter draught, yet, haply, it may serve
“The cause it meant to injure. Gallant men!
“It is a consolation to the brave,
“When faithless and unsound and hollow hearts,
“No longer play the hypocrite, but throw,
“Nobly, the mask away, and stand erect,
“In their own proper character. The bane,
“Mostly we dread, when the slow poison lurks,
“Veil'd from the eye, and the whole mass of blood
“Contaminates unseen: when it appears,
“And reason calculates, cause and effect,
“We know the application, and disdain
“The attitude which puts us on our guard.
“Our secret enemy now shews himself;
“We know him, and, whilst pity moves our heart,
“(Pity for one, so fallen and so false)
“Despise the traitor. Edwall! Hither haste!”

Edwall, the young, the brave, the generous,
Advances to his Prince. He dared not meet
Llewellyn's anger-glance, but on the ground
Fix'd his sad eye. Whilst all the pausing throng,
Waited some new discovery, and half deem'd
Edwall, a traitor. Thus Llewellyn spake.
“Till now, I honor'd thee. I thought thy heart,
“Constant, as to the sailing mariner,
“Heaven's polar star. The object of my love
“Bears a cold aspect!”

Edwall cried, “O Prince,
“Withdraw not thy affection! Let no doubt
“Of my integrity, my constancy,
“Dwell in thy spirit. Tho' my promises,
“My pledges, thus have fail'd, and my warm hopes
“Been blasted in the bud, doubt not my heart!
“It still is true, both to my native land,
“And thee, Llewellyn.” Utterance fail'd, and now,
Silent he stood, when thus the Prince replied.

“Edwall! too many rising suns, these eyes
“Have witness'd, to believe, all words alike
“Founded in truth. Suspicion is a spirit
“That haunts the mean, yet when clear evidence
“Flashes conviction, to resist the rays
“Thus teeming on all sides, denotes a mind,
“Where folly holds undue predominance.
“Didst thou not pledge, all that to man is dear,
“That David's heart was faithfulness, his soul,
“The bright receptacle, where only dwelt
“Feelings that honor man? Didst thou not say,
“Yea pledge thy name, thy character, thy all,
“That David would, erelong, his banner raise
“Amid his fellows, and, the foremost stand,
“To hurl destruction on the English host?
“Suspicion, in my mind, lurk'd, and I deem'd
“David, no active friend, but to believe
“He could renounce, with as much ease, as men
“Throw off their garment, love to Cambria's soil,
“And prove the traitor—this I had not dream'd.
“Yea, when I heard, Edwall's impetuous speech,
“His protestations, vows and solemn oaths,
“That David's heart was faithful; from my mind,
“Each lurking doubt, like an ungenerous guest,
“I bade depart, and call'd him brother still.
“Where is my confidence?”

Edwall replied.
“With untold feelings of regret, I own
“All that thou sayst is true, yet, pardon me,
“If a fond doubt still linger in my breast.
“David, I fear, unwittingly, is wrong'd.
“There may be some mistake, some unperceived
“And latent circumstance, which, understood,
“Might justly sooth the fierceness of thy wrath,
“And ardent indignation. Is it truth?
“Naked and undisguised? this to admit,
“Arduous, I find. Wait till new evidence
“Forces conviction. To believe, my friend,
“David, the associate of my youthful days,
“And up to manhood prized unceasingly,
“As one, in whom each generous purpose dwelt,
“For the aspiring spirit to survey,
“Model and bright example; to believe
“This gorgeous dawn the prelude to black storms,
“That the fair sun, rising in all his pride,
“So soon should dip into a sable cloud—
“It is impossible! On hope's bright side,
“I linger, like a mother for her child,
“Borne from the fontal wave. David, I know,
“E'en as myself! He is a true-man still!
“Yet, do I pledge, my character, my life,
“On his affection to his native land!
“Hear me, Llewellyn! Let me seek him out!
“If foe he be, I to his sword will trust,
“And throw myself into the arms of death.
“Speak, O my Prince! and instant I will haste,
“Fearless to meet him. Yea, I do affirm,
“If traitor, which I know him not to be,
“One look alone, shall break whatever spell
“Encircle him; and I will drag him out
“From treason's pit, e'en tho' its depths extend
“Down to earth's centre.”

Thus the Prince replied.
“Edwall, depart! Find the unhappy man!
“Warn him that death is near and that disgrace
“And infamy will hunt him to his grave.
“An English Knight! Let not th' historic page
“Name the disgrace, O Cambria! of thy son.
“Away! New thoughts are mine! I must prepare
“For conflict and for fame!” Bending to earth,
Edwall retired, when, as he reach'd the door,
A warrior enter'd, breathless and exclaim'd.
“Edward hath pass'd the Dee! On this our soil
“His foot now rests! His breath pollutes our air!
“And his fierce armies, bent on blood and spoil,
“Press onward, to contend with Cambria's Lord.”

Llewellyn cried, “Enough! The holy man—
“The venerable Bishop, in his suit,
“Yea, in the suit of truth and equity,
“By this, hath fail'd. His kind and earnest speech,
“Hath beat'n against a rock of adamant—
“E'en Edward's heart. Subjects our hope is quench'd.
“Each door is shut, at which humanity
“An entrance sought, and we are left alone
“To combat for our lives and liberties.
“Smiling, we meet the conflict. Rhudland's towers
“Stand like a host of giants and will bar
“Edward's approach, hurling defiance round,
“Till we draw near, and man to man engage;
“Such strife as Arthur might himself survey!
“Cambrians, rejoice! The conflict may be hard,
“But victory at last will be our crown.”

Llewellyn shouted “Griffyd!” Thus he spake.
“Speed thou to Powis! Should our brother false,
“The traitor David, tempt our gallant sons,
“And shake their loyalty. Tell them, alone,
“Cambria, their Mother calls! she gasps for breath!
“Brave Meyrion, hither haste. Do thou depart,
“Instant to Dinevawr. Arouse all breasts.
“In whom their country's love may yet abide,
“And warn them, as they prize their native hills,
“Their hearths, their liberties, and me their Prince,
“To haste to Gwyned. We will forth depart
“To try our swords, and teach one lesson more
“To Edward, England's King, our mortal foe!”

Llewellyn, now, order'd due food and arms,
For Dolbadarn, on Snowdon's lofty brow,
For Conway, Dyserth, Rhudland, castles brave,
Form'd for tempestuous strife; the while he march'd
Leading his army, Cambria's choicest sons,
To meet the bold Invader of his land.