The Fall of Cambria in Twenty-Four Books by Joseph Cottle. Second Edition |
 | I, II. |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. | BOOK XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
 | The Fall of Cambria in Twenty-Four Books |  |
108
BOOK XVIII.
SCENE, Mona; Cambria; Conway Castle. David and Edwall proceeding to meet Llewellyn.
The tidings fly, “David hath traitor proved.”
Earl Talbot, in amaze and maddening rage,
Shouts, “Seymour! Hither haste! Stanley, attend!
“Unsheath your mortal swords! Seize some near barks!
“Arrest the fugitive! My happiness
“Were sovereign, in his heart to plunge my spear.”
Earl Talbot, in amaze and maddening rage,
Shouts, “Seymour! Hither haste! Stanley, attend!
“Unsheath your mortal swords! Seize some near barks!
“Arrest the fugitive! My happiness
“Were sovereign, in his heart to plunge my spear.”
The English Knights speed to the ocean verge.
They spy, 'mid Menai's waters, a lone boat,
And, sailing there, a solitary man.
“Behold him!” Stanley cried. Their barks unmoor'd,
Forward they haste. Now had the distant boat
Reach'd Cambria's shore. Two men in converse stand.
They leave it, and sedate their way pursue.
Seymour to Stanley cried. “His path we mark.
“We may outstrip him in his tardy course.
“On Cambria's onward shore we will alight,
“And, haply, should his steps thither be found,
“We yet may meet this traitor Prince, and vile,
“And bear him to his ignominious fate.”
They spy, 'mid Menai's waters, a lone boat,
And, sailing there, a solitary man.
“Behold him!” Stanley cried. Their barks unmoor'd,
Forward they haste. Now had the distant boat
Reach'd Cambria's shore. Two men in converse stand.
They leave it, and sedate their way pursue.
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“We may outstrip him in his tardy course.
“On Cambria's onward shore we will alight,
“And, haply, should his steps thither be found,
“We yet may meet this traitor Prince, and vile,
“And bear him to his ignominious fate.”
Before the favoring breeze, fast sail the Knights.
Cried Stanley “At this hour, (with my true band,
“Beyond yon rock, out stretching 'mid the waves,)
“I will explore the beach. Should this my sword
“Fail to arrest the Traitor; thou, before,
“Wilt make him a sure mark.” “Speed!” Seymour cried.
Stanley and his small band now reach the shore.
One hastens to a friendly eminence;
Back he returns, rejoicing. Thus he spake.
“I see the fugitive! Hither he wends,
“With one, at hand, discoursing earnestly.”
Stanley, with joy elate, cries, “In yon brake,
“Crouching, we pause, till, at the signal shout,
“We issue, and our prey resistless seize.”
Cried Stanley “At this hour, (with my true band,
“Beyond yon rock, out stretching 'mid the waves,)
“I will explore the beach. Should this my sword
“Fail to arrest the Traitor; thou, before,
“Wilt make him a sure mark.” “Speed!” Seymour cried.
Stanley and his small band now reach the shore.
One hastens to a friendly eminence;
Back he returns, rejoicing. Thus he spake.
“I see the fugitive! Hither he wends,
“With one, at hand, discoursing earnestly.”
Stanley, with joy elate, cries, “In yon brake,
“Crouching, we pause, till, at the signal shout,
“We issue, and our prey resistless seize.”
On with calm pace, David and Edwall come,
Undoubting harm, till, with a sudden shout
From the green leaves, the hostile band out-pour!
Roused from discourse, David and Edwall spy
Their foes approaching, and with swords quick drawn,
Await the strife of men. Eager they haste,
Many and fierce. The Cambrians see how vain,
Hardiest resistance, and (no word between)
Provide alone for safety in their flight.
Hard is the chase! Young Edwall, like the hound,
Fleet, vehement, surpasses nimblest step;
When, turning backward glance, his friend he spies,
Toiling and faint behind. Sudden he stops;
Then striding with firm step up to the foe,
With arms infolded, and with beaver down,
Exclaims, “Whom seek you?” “David!” Loud they spake.
“Behold him, in myself, Edwall replied.
“I yield! Your toil is o'er!” Fierce uproar reigns.
Edwall they seize, till, with impetuous speed,
Stanley advances. “Bear him to the shore!”
Eager, he cried. And now they lead away
The man, who, to his life, preferr'd his friend.
Again they reach the strand. Ah! woe was there
And consternation! The receding tide,
Had left the weighty bark, far on the strand,
And vain their strength to launch it to the wave.
Cried Stanley, “Till the favoring surge return,
“David shall hear th' accusing voice. Advance,
“O traitor Prince!” Edwall approaches firm.
“Throw off thy visor!” Spake the English Knight.
“Let me confusion see, and thy deep shame.”
Edwall his head unmasks! Stanley starts back!
“Fraud! Treachery!” loud he cried. “Thou art not he!”
Frantic with rage, the indignant Knight exclaim'd.
“Say what thy name, and wherefore in this hour
“Of sweeping vengeance dost thou dare our rage?”
Edwall replied.
Undoubting harm, till, with a sudden shout
From the green leaves, the hostile band out-pour!
Roused from discourse, David and Edwall spy
Their foes approaching, and with swords quick drawn,
Await the strife of men. Eager they haste,
Many and fierce. The Cambrians see how vain,
Hardiest resistance, and (no word between)
Provide alone for safety in their flight.
110
Fleet, vehement, surpasses nimblest step;
When, turning backward glance, his friend he spies,
Toiling and faint behind. Sudden he stops;
Then striding with firm step up to the foe,
With arms infolded, and with beaver down,
Exclaims, “Whom seek you?” “David!” Loud they spake.
“Behold him, in myself, Edwall replied.
“I yield! Your toil is o'er!” Fierce uproar reigns.
Edwall they seize, till, with impetuous speed,
Stanley advances. “Bear him to the shore!”
Eager, he cried. And now they lead away
The man, who, to his life, preferr'd his friend.
Again they reach the strand. Ah! woe was there
And consternation! The receding tide,
Had left the weighty bark, far on the strand,
And vain their strength to launch it to the wave.
Cried Stanley, “Till the favoring surge return,
“David shall hear th' accusing voice. Advance,
“O traitor Prince!” Edwall approaches firm.
“Throw off thy visor!” Spake the English Knight.
“Let me confusion see, and thy deep shame.”
Edwall his head unmasks! Stanley starts back!
“Fraud! Treachery!” loud he cried. “Thou art not he!”
Frantic with rage, the indignant Knight exclaim'd.
“Say what thy name, and wherefore in this hour
“Of sweeping vengeance dost thou dare our rage?”
Edwall replied.
“Warrior! My words regard.
“Behold a Cambrian Chief! Edwall, my name.
“By Menai's strand, David I late received.
“He is my friend! Our every day, from youth,
“Has but cemented, and new fortified
“The mutual and strong bias of our heart.
“Matchless is David's worth, and even, to me,
“His foibles have endurance. When I saw,
“Fast-fleeing, that thy eager band advanced,
“Hard on his steps, I turn'd. He pass'd me by,
“I thy pursuers sought, and offered up,
“As David, to their rage, my forfeit life.
“I am thy captive. David now secure,
“Wreck on this head the vengeance due to him.”
O'erwhelm'd with admiration, Stanley spake.
“Mistake me not. Brave man, thou art my friend!
“Such stuff as thou art form'd of, is my pride.
“We were not made for foes. Free as the air,
“Speed on thy course, and, with thee, take my prayers.”
A band is seen fast rushing from the hill!
Stanley, and all around, look wan and wild.
“Behold a Cambrian Chief! Edwall, my name.
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“He is my friend! Our every day, from youth,
“Has but cemented, and new fortified
“The mutual and strong bias of our heart.
“Matchless is David's worth, and even, to me,
“His foibles have endurance. When I saw,
“Fast-fleeing, that thy eager band advanced,
“Hard on his steps, I turn'd. He pass'd me by,
“I thy pursuers sought, and offered up,
“As David, to their rage, my forfeit life.
“I am thy captive. David now secure,
“Wreck on this head the vengeance due to him.”
O'erwhelm'd with admiration, Stanley spake.
“Mistake me not. Brave man, thou art my friend!
“Such stuff as thou art form'd of, is my pride.
“We were not made for foes. Free as the air,
“Speed on thy course, and, with thee, take my prayers.”
A band is seen fast rushing from the hill!
Stanley, and all around, look wan and wild.
David, escaped, nor seeing Edwall near,
With frantic spirit, gazing round, awhile,
Stood whelm'd in anguish and soul-probing pangs.
When spying Bangor's towers, castle renown'd,
Thither he sped and cried, “Cambrians, attend.
“A slender band and rav'nous, on our shore,
“Have touch'd for plunder. We must feed our spears
“Upon these Saxons. David leads you on.”
Eager they hasten, vengeance in their eye,
And breathing death. Now, from th' adjacent hill,
The foe they spy, down strew'd along the beach;
And thither rush to deal remorseless fate.
With frantic spirit, gazing round, awhile,
Stood whelm'd in anguish and soul-probing pangs.
When spying Bangor's towers, castle renown'd,
Thither he sped and cried, “Cambrians, attend.
“A slender band and rav'nous, on our shore,
“Have touch'd for plunder. We must feed our spears
“Upon these Saxons. David leads you on.”
Eager they hasten, vengeance in their eye,
And breathing death. Now, from th' adjacent hill,
112
And thither rush to deal remorseless fate.
Edwall beheld the Cambrians fierce advance.
“I meet them,” he exclaim'd. Forward he hastes.
David receives his friend! Their hearts alone.
And their bright eyes told their felicity!
Edwall at length exclaim'd. “Stop, valiant man!
“These are not foes. Stanley, yon English Knight,
“Demands thy love. His prisoner I became,
“A willing captive, David to preserve!
“When I my motive and my name declared,
“And offer'd him, freely, my forfeit life;
“Brave man, he said, we were not made for foes:
“Speed where thou wist, and my best prayers be thine.”
A sudden smile of joy, warm from the soul,
Fill'd David's countenance. To Stauley, near,
Hastening, he cried. “Harmless, thy course pursue.
“Tho' different names be ours and different homes,
“Chieftain, thou art my brother and my friend.”
“I meet them,” he exclaim'd. Forward he hastes.
David receives his friend! Their hearts alone.
And their bright eyes told their felicity!
Edwall at length exclaim'd. “Stop, valiant man!
“These are not foes. Stanley, yon English Knight,
“Demands thy love. His prisoner I became,
“A willing captive, David to preserve!
“When I my motive and my name declared,
“And offer'd him, freely, my forfeit life;
“Brave man, he said, we were not made for foes:
“Speed where thou wist, and my best prayers be thine.”
A sudden smile of joy, warm from the soul,
Fill'd David's countenance. To Stauley, near,
Hastening, he cried. “Harmless, thy course pursue.
“Tho' different names be ours and different homes,
“Chieftain, thou art my brother and my friend.”
With heart o'erflowing, Stanley thus replied.
“Noblest of Cambria's sons, thou hast my praise.
“Thy generous valour long shall be my theme.
“Before we part, list to the voice sincere:
“Tread not the ocean verge. Out, far away,
“'Mid yonder coast, Seymour, in ambush, lies
“To seize thee, and conduct thee to our chief,—
“Talbot, to quench whose ire ten thousand lives,
“Were they thy boast, he fain would immolate.”
David exclaim'd, “Thou art a valourous Knight!
“One small return for this thy faithfulness;
“Instant our general strength, shall to the wave,
“Launch out thy bark.” Now, down the yellow strand,
Before the stout and strenuous multitude,
Slowly it glides. The English warriors waft
To their admiring foes (the same return'd)
From the green ocean and the crowded deck,
Greetings effectual, sent from heart to heart,
Touchstone of rectitude, and now the bark
Sails on toward Mona, whilst Prince David turns,
With Edwall, to endure Llewellyn's frown.
“Noblest of Cambria's sons, thou hast my praise.
“Thy generous valour long shall be my theme.
“Before we part, list to the voice sincere:
“Tread not the ocean verge. Out, far away,
“'Mid yonder coast, Seymour, in ambush, lies
“To seize thee, and conduct thee to our chief,—
“Talbot, to quench whose ire ten thousand lives,
“Were they thy boast, he fain would immolate.”
113
“One small return for this thy faithfulness;
“Instant our general strength, shall to the wave,
“Launch out thy bark.” Now, down the yellow strand,
Before the stout and strenuous multitude,
Slowly it glides. The English warriors waft
To their admiring foes (the same return'd)
From the green ocean and the crowded deck,
Greetings effectual, sent from heart to heart,
Touchstone of rectitude, and now the bark
Sails on toward Mona, whilst Prince David turns,
With Edwall, to endure Llewellyn's frown.
All missile weapons and war instruments
In Conway's towers were form'd. Llewellyn there,
And Vychan, took their stand, prepared to meet
Edward advancing. Never firmer hearts
Look'd on to conquest. Sounds of death to them
Were music, soft and sweet, heard evermore;
For 'mid the day, and at the hour of eve,
Thro' all the place, one constant noise was heard,
Anvil and hammer; and when night came on,
The same unceasing note mix'd in their dreams;
Yea, from brief slumbers and 'mid darkest shades,
When they aroused themselves, half dreaming still,
The sound which brought them to full thoughtfulness
Was the shrill-clinking anvil and the forge
Breathing its hissing blast.
In Conway's towers were form'd. Llewellyn there,
And Vychan, took their stand, prepared to meet
Edward advancing. Never firmer hearts
Look'd on to conquest. Sounds of death to them
Were music, soft and sweet, heard evermore;
For 'mid the day, and at the hour of eve,
Thro' all the place, one constant noise was heard,
Anvil and hammer; and when night came on,
The same unceasing note mix'd in their dreams;
Yea, from brief slumbers and 'mid darkest shades,
When they aroused themselves, half dreaming still,
The sound which brought them to full thoughtfulness
Was the shrill-clinking anvil and the forge
Breathing its hissing blast.
One eager came.
He sought Llewellyn. Thus aloud he spake.
“Mona, our Isle, is fall'n! Fierce Venables,
“And Talbot's Earl, have ravaged that fair spot.”
Llewellyn cried, “Dark and disastrous news!
“What more? Declare!” The man his speech pursued.
“Mona is fall'n, but other tidings wait,
“At which all Cambria, with one general groan,
“Will fill the elements. Our Bards are slain!
“They all have perish'd! Murdered in cold blood!
“By Fiends let loose and halloo'd on by Hell.
“Not one this hour survives.” Llewellyn turn'd.
The wall sustain'd him. “I have other news,”
The man pursued. “Prince David led them on.
“Thy brother, with the English force advanced.
“He plann'd and sanctioned all. He slew the Bards,
“For he had power to save.”
114
“Mona, our Isle, is fall'n! Fierce Venables,
“And Talbot's Earl, have ravaged that fair spot.”
Llewellyn cried, “Dark and disastrous news!
“What more? Declare!” The man his speech pursued.
“Mona is fall'n, but other tidings wait,
“At which all Cambria, with one general groan,
“Will fill the elements. Our Bards are slain!
“They all have perish'd! Murdered in cold blood!
“By Fiends let loose and halloo'd on by Hell.
“Not one this hour survives.” Llewellyn turn'd.
The wall sustain'd him. “I have other news,”
The man pursued. “Prince David led them on.
“Thy brother, with the English force advanced.
“He plann'd and sanctioned all. He slew the Bards,
“For he had power to save.”
Llewellyn cried,
Clenching his hand, “David! thou prostrate man!
“I tear thee, yea, each fibre from my heart!
“A brother! once a brother!”
Clenching his hand, “David! thou prostrate man!
“I tear thee, yea, each fibre from my heart!
“A brother! once a brother!”
One drew near,
“Edwall!” he cried. Young Edwall now advanced.
Llewellyn spake not: bathed in grief he stood.
At length, slow gazing round, Edwall he saw.
“Off!” he exclaim'd. “As David, thou art base!
“Hateful! Away!” Edwall confounded stood.
Llewellyn cried, “David hath proved himself—
“(Thy friend, for whom thy solemn oath was past)
“A most foul traitor! On his mountain crimes
“Black murder he hath heaped. The man who thinks,
“On monster such as he, with placid mien,
“Yea, without stormy hate and tempest rage,
“Is his coadjutor—his darker half!
“Art thou prepared, still to advance one thought
“That David ranks above Hell's blackest brood!
“I see thy shame!”
“Edwall!” he cried. Young Edwall now advanced.
Llewellyn spake not: bathed in grief he stood.
At length, slow gazing round, Edwall he saw.
“Off!” he exclaim'd. “As David, thou art base!
“Hateful! Away!” Edwall confounded stood.
Llewellyn cried, “David hath proved himself—
“(Thy friend, for whom thy solemn oath was past)
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“Black murder he hath heaped. The man who thinks,
“On monster such as he, with placid mien,
“Yea, without stormy hate and tempest rage,
“Is his coadjutor—his darker half!
“Art thou prepared, still to advance one thought
“That David ranks above Hell's blackest brood!
“I see thy shame!”
Edwall replied, “O Prince!
“Behold, in me, still David's advocate.
“The mists are flown. The sun now cloudless shines.
“David is near! Contrition he hath felt,
“Such as shall touch thy heart, as it hath moved
“Edwall to tears. He shall defend himself!
“I lead him hither!” Edwall now retires.
“Behold, in me, still David's advocate.
“The mists are flown. The sun now cloudless shines.
“David is near! Contrition he hath felt,
“Such as shall touch thy heart, as it hath moved
“Edwall to tears. He shall defend himself!
“I lead him hither!” Edwall now retires.
Llewellyn scarce believed the things he saw,
The words he heard. In tumult and amaze,
He gazed around, calling on reason's aid,
To prove that all was real as it seem'd;
When, David enter'd! Then his thoughts, anew,
Flow'd in one tide indignant. Such a glow
Of aggravated wrath beam'd from his eye,
Its influence might be felt. David remain'd,
Bending, and far away. Silence was round,
When Edwall forward came and thus began.
“Behold Prince David! Lend a patient ear,
“Nor scorn him utterly. Awhile restrain
“Thy kindling wrath! O fetter down thine ire,
“A little space, till thou hast heard his words.”
Llewellyn cried. “David! What seek'st thou here?”
David advancing slow, at length replied.
The words he heard. In tumult and amaze,
He gazed around, calling on reason's aid,
To prove that all was real as it seem'd;
When, David enter'd! Then his thoughts, anew,
Flow'd in one tide indignant. Such a glow
Of aggravated wrath beam'd from his eye,
Its influence might be felt. David remain'd,
Bending, and far away. Silence was round,
When Edwall forward came and thus began.
“Behold Prince David! Lend a patient ear,
“Nor scorn him utterly. Awhile restrain
“Thy kindling wrath! O fetter down thine ire,
116
Llewellyn cried. “David! What seek'st thou here?”
David advancing slow, at length replied.
“O Prince! a crushing weight that man sustains
“Who hath a loaded conscience. I am he!
“Call me not brother! I have ill deserved
“Kindness or common mercy. It were right
“To seize my life—on Justice' shrine, to shed
“David's most traitorous blood, and send his soul
“Down to perdition. Hear me still, O Prince!
“Slay me, but let my full heart first discharge
“Its weight of woe. Let me declare my guilt,
“And at the sentence, tho' to instant death
“Thou may'st ordain me, I will smile and say—
“To my deserts, this fate is lenity.
“Who hath a loaded conscience. I am he!
“Call me not brother! I have ill deserved
“Kindness or common mercy. It were right
“To seize my life—on Justice' shrine, to shed
“David's most traitorous blood, and send his soul
“Down to perdition. Hear me still, O Prince!
“Slay me, but let my full heart first discharge
“Its weight of woe. Let me declare my guilt,
“And at the sentence, tho' to instant death
“Thou may'st ordain me, I will smile and say—
“To my deserts, this fate is lenity.
“Ambition was my bane! I worshipp'd her,
“Before whom Satan bent, ere from Heaven's thrones
“Almighty Power hurl'd him, to scenes of woe,
“And doleful and enduring fires accurs'd.
“A Prince by birth, lord of no mean domain,
“I saw one mightier, braver, than myself—
“Yea even thee! when all my eminence
“Sank to a pismire's hill. Each good bestow'd
“By Heaven's high bounty, castles and fair fields,
“Wealth, and most general reverence from the crowd,
“All was forgotten. I Llewellyn saw—
“My wiser and my better brother, saw—
“Raised to a crown, peering above my head,
“And envy gnaw'd my heart. My anxious wife,
“When moaning in the drowsy hours of night,
“Ask'd me what dreams of death prey'd on my mind.
“I answer'd not. My thoughts alone revolved
“On secret vengeance and unlawful deeds,
“Yea, to dethrone thee!—how to sit secure
“Where now thou sittest, and thy sceptre sway,
“Scorning impediment, or great, or small.
“The image of a crown haunted my dreams.
“I thought my life and all that I possess'd
“Baubles for slaves, whilst there was one, whose word
“David was forced to hear and to obey.
“In the sore anxiousness of mind diseas'd,
“(With lofty hopes and wilder'd plans, unfledg'd,
“Tho' heedless of the thing which I required)
“With fierce austerity, I ask'd of thee—
“A brother's share of Griffith's heritage.
“Thou didst admit my right, and pledge thy faith,
“To grant me, when the battle's rage was o'er,
“My amplest claim. I knew full well, with thee,
“That both to promise and fulfil were one,
“Yet, more, I coveted. I sought thy crown!—
“I sought to reign supreme o'er Cambria's land;
“New visions fill'd my mind. New plans and great.
“I deem'd that if I found our deadliest foe,
“And, to his secret ear, proffer'd, to own,
“(If he would raise me to my father's throne)
“Vassal allegiance—him, to call my lord,
“And sovereign potentate, that I might then
“Sleep 'neath the canopy, and, to my might,
“And power efficient, trust, to break again
“These fetters, just assumed. Tho' then my heart
“Told me, that not a being breath'd heaven's air,
“Whom I could call my lord! yet, confident,
“That when the prize was gain'd, I might throw off
“All trammels, and by valourous feats of arms
“Regain my loss, I my proud spirit sooth'd.
“Thus with deceit and villainous intent,
“At Chester, England's haughty king I sought,
“He welcomed me. He promised, with an oath,
“All I required, yet knowing my designs,
“Him I suspected. Now the stream was past.
“Here there might be a harvest, all beside
“Was black sterility. Edward required,
“My aid, with Venables and Talbot's Earl,
“Two bloody men! to seek and to subdue
“Mona's fair land. Forced to the grating task,
“We thither sail'd, and after a hard fight,
“We conquer'd the green isle.
“Before whom Satan bent, ere from Heaven's thrones
“Almighty Power hurl'd him, to scenes of woe,
“And doleful and enduring fires accurs'd.
“A Prince by birth, lord of no mean domain,
“I saw one mightier, braver, than myself—
“Yea even thee! when all my eminence
“Sank to a pismire's hill. Each good bestow'd
“By Heaven's high bounty, castles and fair fields,
“Wealth, and most general reverence from the crowd,
“All was forgotten. I Llewellyn saw—
“My wiser and my better brother, saw—
“Raised to a crown, peering above my head,
117
“When moaning in the drowsy hours of night,
“Ask'd me what dreams of death prey'd on my mind.
“I answer'd not. My thoughts alone revolved
“On secret vengeance and unlawful deeds,
“Yea, to dethrone thee!—how to sit secure
“Where now thou sittest, and thy sceptre sway,
“Scorning impediment, or great, or small.
“The image of a crown haunted my dreams.
“I thought my life and all that I possess'd
“Baubles for slaves, whilst there was one, whose word
“David was forced to hear and to obey.
“In the sore anxiousness of mind diseas'd,
“(With lofty hopes and wilder'd plans, unfledg'd,
“Tho' heedless of the thing which I required)
“With fierce austerity, I ask'd of thee—
“A brother's share of Griffith's heritage.
“Thou didst admit my right, and pledge thy faith,
“To grant me, when the battle's rage was o'er,
“My amplest claim. I knew full well, with thee,
“That both to promise and fulfil were one,
“Yet, more, I coveted. I sought thy crown!—
“I sought to reign supreme o'er Cambria's land;
“New visions fill'd my mind. New plans and great.
“I deem'd that if I found our deadliest foe,
“And, to his secret ear, proffer'd, to own,
“(If he would raise me to my father's throne)
“Vassal allegiance—him, to call my lord,
“And sovereign potentate, that I might then
“Sleep 'neath the canopy, and, to my might,
118
“These fetters, just assumed. Tho' then my heart
“Told me, that not a being breath'd heaven's air,
“Whom I could call my lord! yet, confident,
“That when the prize was gain'd, I might throw off
“All trammels, and by valourous feats of arms
“Regain my loss, I my proud spirit sooth'd.
“Thus with deceit and villainous intent,
“At Chester, England's haughty king I sought,
“He welcomed me. He promised, with an oath,
“All I required, yet knowing my designs,
“Him I suspected. Now the stream was past.
“Here there might be a harvest, all beside
“Was black sterility. Edward required,
“My aid, with Venables and Talbot's Earl,
“Two bloody men! to seek and to subdue
“Mona's fair land. Forced to the grating task,
“We thither sail'd, and after a hard fight,
“We conquer'd the green isle.
“Then was the time
“When Bards, from utmost Cambria, for a feast
“Of sacred minstrelsy, to Mona flock'd.
“The Druid altar and the forest shades,
“Still sacred, offer'd them a calm retreat.
“Good men will spurn the calumny on man—
“Yes Venables proposed, while Talbot smiled,
“To slay these Bards!—the heaven-taught sons of song!
“Lest they should rouse the Cambrian spirit up,
“By singing of brave ancestors, to stem
“Edward, and drive him from the field of fight!
“I am no murderer! My ardent soul
“Resisted, threaten'd, pleaded, but in vain!
“One Bard alone I saved. Old Caradoc!
“Our father's Bard, who charm'd our infancy,
“And on whose knee we sat, half thro' the night,
“Drinking his songs—one man alone I saved,
“The aged Caradoc. That hour I fled!
“Upon the beach, all darkness, up and down,
“I paced distracted! Then my heart returned!
“The film from my glazed eye-ball downward fell!
“I saw the hideous gulf which I had pass'd!
“I saw the precipice on which I stood!
“I saw my crimes, darker than ever yet
“Man had sustain'd! and to fulfil the shade,
“Of scaring aspect, I beheld, e'en those
“Whom I had call'd my friends, savage of soul,
“Espousing not my cause, and who restrain'd
“Their fiery purpose till some favouring hour,
“Only, to level Cambria with the dust!
“My spirit then return'd. Anguish supreme
“Revell'd within me. I deplored too late
“My wretchedness; most causeless wrong to thee,
“The best of brothers; injury to the land
“That gave me birth—Cambria, the Queen august,
“My parent! My dear parent! name adored!
“Thro' infancy (unnatural matricide!)
“Whose breasts, unconscious, nurs'd me with delight.
“I saw my abject state. Scorning myself,
“I view'd, with untold agony, my fame,
“That a long line of noble ancestors
“Had handed down immaculate, all lost!
“And I an outcast, scorn'd of Heaven and Earth!
“My infants, for whose manhood, I had oft
“Anticipated glory, and look'd on,
“To hear them boast of their illustrious Sire—
“Now plunged, I saw, in deep and endless shame!
“Ambition! O thou serpent of my heart!
“How did I curse thee! Thee, for whom I thus,
“Had barter'd all things, joy and peace below,
“And happiness, in that approaching world,
“To which I once could look, not sad, but now,
“My deepest torment. O my country dear!
“My native Cambria! Never, till that hour,
“Didst thou appear so sweet! Thy hills and dales,
“Thy cataracts and streams, thy woody glens,
“Lay tangible upon my feverish brain!
“I would not then have hurt thee, with a touch
“Of softest down, if all earth's potentates
“Had proferr'd me their thrones. Dear native land,
“Wilt thou forgive thy most injurious child—
“That he should ere have leagued with foreign hordes
“To thy dishonor? Were it possible,
“That in thy plentitude and potency
“Of noble deeds, thou couldst receive again,
“The son that pierced thee, pierced a mother's side,
“This heart, inveterate at so black a deed,
“Would hold its scorn, stable as heaven itself.”
“When Bards, from utmost Cambria, for a feast
“Of sacred minstrelsy, to Mona flock'd.
“The Druid altar and the forest shades,
“Still sacred, offer'd them a calm retreat.
“Good men will spurn the calumny on man—
“Yes Venables proposed, while Talbot smiled,
“To slay these Bards!—the heaven-taught sons of song!
“Lest they should rouse the Cambrian spirit up,
“By singing of brave ancestors, to stem
119
“I am no murderer! My ardent soul
“Resisted, threaten'd, pleaded, but in vain!
“One Bard alone I saved. Old Caradoc!
“Our father's Bard, who charm'd our infancy,
120
“Drinking his songs—one man alone I saved,
“The aged Caradoc. That hour I fled!
“Upon the beach, all darkness, up and down,
“I paced distracted! Then my heart returned!
“The film from my glazed eye-ball downward fell!
“I saw the hideous gulf which I had pass'd!
“I saw the precipice on which I stood!
“I saw my crimes, darker than ever yet
“Man had sustain'd! and to fulfil the shade,
“Of scaring aspect, I beheld, e'en those
“Whom I had call'd my friends, savage of soul,
“Espousing not my cause, and who restrain'd
“Their fiery purpose till some favouring hour,
“Only, to level Cambria with the dust!
“My spirit then return'd. Anguish supreme
“Revell'd within me. I deplored too late
121
“The best of brothers; injury to the land
“That gave me birth—Cambria, the Queen august,
“My parent! My dear parent! name adored!
“Thro' infancy (unnatural matricide!)
“Whose breasts, unconscious, nurs'd me with delight.
“I saw my abject state. Scorning myself,
“I view'd, with untold agony, my fame,
“That a long line of noble ancestors
“Had handed down immaculate, all lost!
“And I an outcast, scorn'd of Heaven and Earth!
“My infants, for whose manhood, I had oft
“Anticipated glory, and look'd on,
“To hear them boast of their illustrious Sire—
“Now plunged, I saw, in deep and endless shame!
“Ambition! O thou serpent of my heart!
“How did I curse thee! Thee, for whom I thus,
“Had barter'd all things, joy and peace below,
“And happiness, in that approaching world,
“To which I once could look, not sad, but now,
“My deepest torment. O my country dear!
“My native Cambria! Never, till that hour,
“Didst thou appear so sweet! Thy hills and dales,
“Thy cataracts and streams, thy woody glens,
“Lay tangible upon my feverish brain!
“I would not then have hurt thee, with a touch
“Of softest down, if all earth's potentates
“Had proferr'd me their thrones. Dear native land,
“Wilt thou forgive thy most injurious child—
“That he should ere have leagued with foreign hordes
122
“That in thy plentitude and potency
“Of noble deeds, thou couldst receive again,
“The son that pierced thee, pierced a mother's side,
“This heart, inveterate at so black a deed,
“Would hold its scorn, stable as heaven itself.”
He ceas'd. Llewellyn started from his seat!
He fell upon his neck! Feebly he cried.
“My brother! Thou wast lost, but thou art found!”
No voice was heard. A solemn hush prevails,
Sacred to feeling and the influence
Of soul with soul. At length, Llewellyn cried.
“Now David, we are friends! The past hath sunk,
“E'en ere I spake, to the profoundest depths
“Of dark oblivion. Hear my kindest words.
“It is affection and solicitude
“Most tender, for thy welfare and thy fame,
“That prompts my speech.
He fell upon his neck! Feebly he cried.
“My brother! Thou wast lost, but thou art found!”
No voice was heard. A solemn hush prevails,
Sacred to feeling and the influence
Of soul with soul. At length, Llewellyn cried.
“Now David, we are friends! The past hath sunk,
“E'en ere I spake, to the profoundest depths
“Of dark oblivion. Hear my kindest words.
“It is affection and solicitude
“Most tender, for thy welfare and thy fame,
“That prompts my speech.
“David! I know thee well.
“I know the noble bearings of thy mind,
“Thy lofty qualities, but, 'mid the wheat,
“There is a tare, ambition. Never more
“Let it grow up and choak the blessed seeds
“Of virtue, that might else, lift thee to Heaven.
“Let us unite, alike, our hearts, our hands,
“To scourge this haughty Saxon, and, with shame,
“Drive him from Cambria, which perform'd, I swear,
“Here in the presence of that God, whose ear
“Regards the faintest whisper, and whose eye
“Beholds the heart—I swear, to do thee right!
“To grant thee all that justice, in her hour
“Of largest longing, asks, and to maintain
“True brotherhood, affection and kind deeds.
“Yea, I will make thee Prince o'er Powis-land.
“Is there besides, O David, in thy soul,
“Aught that thou covetest?”
“I know the noble bearings of thy mind,
“Thy lofty qualities, but, 'mid the wheat,
“There is a tare, ambition. Never more
“Let it grow up and choak the blessed seeds
“Of virtue, that might else, lift thee to Heaven.
“Let us unite, alike, our hearts, our hands,
“To scourge this haughty Saxon, and, with shame,
“Drive him from Cambria, which perform'd, I swear,
“Here in the presence of that God, whose ear
123
“Beholds the heart—I swear, to do thee right!
“To grant thee all that justice, in her hour
“Of largest longing, asks, and to maintain
“True brotherhood, affection and kind deeds.
“Yea, I will make thee Prince o'er Powis-land.
“Is there besides, O David, in thy soul,
“Aught that thou covetest?”
David exclaim'd,
“Nothing, my Brother! My most reverenced Friend!
“Thy generous promise bounds my utmost hope,
“Yea, far exceeds it. Ere this calming hour,
“The trammels of ambition I had burst.
“I hate her! She had well-nigh deluged me
“In her mad vortex, but some guiding hand,
“Tho' secret, led me to the better way.
“If it were possible, that in my heart
“One fibre and thin ligament remain'd
“Of lawless aspiration—hear it Heaven!
“Llewellyn, by thy high and generous deeds,
“Thou wouldst expel it. It were blasphemy,
“Against man's open and regenerate heart
“To doubt me more. Point thou my future path.
“Tell me, where I may scare the English host,
“And deal them ruin, horrible dismay!
“The future for the past, yet may atone.”
“Nothing, my Brother! My most reverenced Friend!
“Thy generous promise bounds my utmost hope,
“Yea, far exceeds it. Ere this calming hour,
“The trammels of ambition I had burst.
“I hate her! She had well-nigh deluged me
“In her mad vortex, but some guiding hand,
“Tho' secret, led me to the better way.
“If it were possible, that in my heart
“One fibre and thin ligament remain'd
“Of lawless aspiration—hear it Heaven!
“Llewellyn, by thy high and generous deeds,
“Thou wouldst expel it. It were blasphemy,
“Against man's open and regenerate heart
“To doubt me more. Point thou my future path.
“Tell me, where I may scare the English host,
“And deal them ruin, horrible dismay!
“The future for the past, yet may atone.”
Llewellyn cried, with soothing voice and mild,
“Hear me, brave David! I will instant prove
“My confidence in thee, and in thine arm.
“Edward, that bane of Cambria, hath subdued
“Late Denbigh's castle. With the Saxon's heart,
“Cynan he murder'd, yea, each man who breath'd,
“He, on his sanguine altar, offer'd up!
“Not one survived! Dying, each cried aloud,
“Each Cambrian, in the struggle hard of death,
“This bloody deed, my country shall avenge.
“Thou, David, shalt perform this sacred trust.
“'Mid Conway we abide, gathering our strength,
“Whilst Edward wastes, and desolates, and deems,
“Thus unresisted, Cambria half subdued.
“We lure him to his ruin! At this spot,
“Our stand we make, panting to prove once more
“Our glory, and the terror of our sword.
“Take with thee a brave host, well to be spared,
“And do thy best, which well I know includes,
“All possibilities of high emprise.”
“Hear me, brave David! I will instant prove
124
“Edward, that bane of Cambria, hath subdued
“Late Denbigh's castle. With the Saxon's heart,
“Cynan he murder'd, yea, each man who breath'd,
“He, on his sanguine altar, offer'd up!
“Not one survived! Dying, each cried aloud,
“Each Cambrian, in the struggle hard of death,
“This bloody deed, my country shall avenge.
“Thou, David, shalt perform this sacred trust.
“'Mid Conway we abide, gathering our strength,
“Whilst Edward wastes, and desolates, and deems,
“Thus unresisted, Cambria half subdued.
“We lure him to his ruin! At this spot,
“Our stand we make, panting to prove once more
“Our glory, and the terror of our sword.
“Take with thee a brave host, well to be spared,
“And do thy best, which well I know includes,
“All possibilities of high emprise.”
David replied. “I go! When next we meet,
“Triumph shall fill my eyes and words be vain.
“The lightning not more zealous to ingulf
“His forked fires in earth, than I, to prove
“My penitence, and on the English ranks
“Torrents to pour of wrath insatiable.
“Hear me, Llewellyn! One request is mine.
“Let Edwall be my second. Braver man,
“More faithful to his Prince, or one endued
“With purer emanations of the heart,
“In holy friendship's cause, hath never lived.”
Llewellyn answer'd, “Go! Success be yours!”
And now toward Denbigh's towers they speed their way.
“Triumph shall fill my eyes and words be vain.
“The lightning not more zealous to ingulf
“His forked fires in earth, than I, to prove
“My penitence, and on the English ranks
“Torrents to pour of wrath insatiable.
“Hear me, Llewellyn! One request is mine.
“Let Edwall be my second. Braver man,
“More faithful to his Prince, or one endued
“With purer emanations of the heart,
“In holy friendship's cause, hath never lived.”
125
And now toward Denbigh's towers they speed their way.
One entering cried. “A Bard awaits without.”
The Prince exclaim'd, “Old Caradoc, my friend!
“He is the only Bard Cambria now boasts!
“It is a cordial that e'en he survives.
“Admit him.” Lo, he hastens. In his arms,
Llewellyn, Lhyrarch clasps!
The Prince exclaim'd, “Old Caradoc, my friend!
“He is the only Bard Cambria now boasts!
“It is a cordial that e'en he survives.
“Admit him.” Lo, he hastens. In his arms,
Llewellyn, Lhyrarch clasps!
When utterance came,
The Prince exclaim'd. “Art thou a ghost, or he?”
“E'en Lhyrarch,” Lhyrarch cried. “Merciful Heaven
“Hath spared me, when the storm of death was round.”
“Tell me!” Llewellyn cried. “O satisfy
“My longing ears, altho' it rend my heart;
“Tell me of Mona and her injured Bards.”
The Prince exclaim'd. “Art thou a ghost, or he?”
“E'en Lhyrarch,” Lhyrarch cried. “Merciful Heaven
“Hath spared me, when the storm of death was round.”
“Tell me!” Llewellyn cried. “O satisfy
“My longing ears, altho' it rend my heart;
“Tell me of Mona and her injured Bards.”
Down Lhyrarch's cheek, the tear fast-trickling fell;
Wiping the big drop from his eye, he said.
“Of sorrow, brave Llewellyn, I have known
“An old man's portion, but the cup at last,
“Just when I quit a world of wretchedness,
“Hath been most bitter. I have seen my friends,
“Whose countenance was pleasant as the morn,
“Slaughter'd by savage men.—I will repress
“Th' o'erflowing feeling. Briefly I must speak.
Wiping the big drop from his eye, he said.
“Of sorrow, brave Llewellyn, I have known
“An old man's portion, but the cup at last,
“Just when I quit a world of wretchedness,
“Hath been most bitter. I have seen my friends,
“Whose countenance was pleasant as the morn,
“Slaughter'd by savage men.—I will repress
“Th' o'erflowing feeling. Briefly I must speak.
“The English Chieftains, after a fierce fight,
“Conquer'd our Isle. By treachery, Venables
“Found out the secret covert of our Bards;
“And as we crowded, in the centre wide
“Of Druid Altar, hoping naught of good,
“Nor dreading ill, we saw the fierce-eyed band,
“Rush toward us, with the unsheath'd sword on high!
“Then, death was manifest! Some, ‘Mercy!’ cried;
“Some, on the ground, fell prostrate; some implored,
“Upon their knees, pardon for unknown crimes.
“Some fled distracted. Vain, alas! their flight.
“The murderers sword was near! On all sides round,
“The cry of mercy, and the shriek of death,
“Sounded aloud.—My brethren, in that hour,
“All perish'd! Perish'd by the Saxon sword!
“I, with the flying Bards, sought the near woods!
“All, crowding round me died! And I, for death,
“Look'd instant, when a youthful Knight drew near
“I saw his sword, and my heart sank within!
“I raised my hands, but language I had none.
“‘Old Bard!’ He cried. ‘I will preserve thy life,
“Stanley will be thy guardian! Speed with me!
“This wood be thy retreat!’ I look'd at him!
“I only look'd. He knew the spirit's voice.
“He sigh'd and said ‘Farewell!’ Thro' bough and brake,
“I rush'd impetuous, and each step I heard,
“Murder's loud shriek! A sound that, in my ear,
“Hangs like the sun in heaven. O that my brain
“Might lose the memory of that dreadful sound!
“All night I fled. I reach'd the distant beach,
“And there, amazed, I found old Caradoc!—
“As lonely as a solitary weed,
“Floating on the immeasurable sea.
“A drifting boat was near. ‘Fly!’ I exclaim'd.
“‘Let us escape to Cambria!’ Then I saw,
“By his bewilder'd look, and heedless air,
“That he had lost his reason! There he was
“Pacing alone, and whilst the passing breeze
“Disturb'd his hoary locks, often he call'd
“Upon the mermaid. With his harp he pour'd
“A mournful ditty, and to every wind,
“And every wave that roll'd along the shore,
“Told of his wrongs. The mermaid was his call.
“He said, that human hearts had ceas'd to feel,
“And he would sing, only to her he loved.
“Poor aged Caradoc! I cried, ‘Escape!
“The hour is perilous!’ Upon my harp,
“His gaze he fix'd. ‘Art thou a Bard?’ he said.
“He knew me not, most miserable sight!
“The man, whom most I prized, knew not his friend!
“His vacant eye-ball, in strange fits, and wild,
“Roll'd o'er my face. ‘Art thou a Bard?’ he cried.
“‘Thou art! One kindred spirit yet survives!
“O, no! They all are slain! Their songs have ceas'd!
“Their lips are cold! Ah! heard'st thou that? he said,
“That soft and tender note, borne on the breeze?
“It is the injured dead, from their bless'd bowers,
“Calling on Carodoc.’ With starting tear,
“Earnest again I cried! ‘My brother Bard!
“Let us escape! Here is the wave, and here
“The friendly boat to waft us o'er the tide.’
“He heard me not, but touching his sweet harp,
“For ardour famed, but most for tenderness,
“Turn'd and his solitary path pursued.
“Here would I stop, Ah, no! it must be told.
“Before him stood a rocky pinnacle,
“Far jetting o'er the sea. Toward it he sped.
“(A sudden gust, starting from death to life.)
“I follow'd hard. I saw him climb the steep!
“When standing now upon the awful brow
“He raised his harp. I paused. The witching sounds
“Entranced my spirit. Tho' the sky was clear,
“And peacefully the sea-gull skimmed the wave,
“He thought it midnight and fierce hurricanes.
“The last song of thy aged Caradoc,
“Unmoved thou wilt not hear. Thus sang the Bard:
“Conquer'd our Isle. By treachery, Venables
126
“And as we crowded, in the centre wide
“Of Druid Altar, hoping naught of good,
“Nor dreading ill, we saw the fierce-eyed band,
“Rush toward us, with the unsheath'd sword on high!
“Then, death was manifest! Some, ‘Mercy!’ cried;
“Some, on the ground, fell prostrate; some implored,
“Upon their knees, pardon for unknown crimes.
“Some fled distracted. Vain, alas! their flight.
“The murderers sword was near! On all sides round,
“The cry of mercy, and the shriek of death,
“Sounded aloud.—My brethren, in that hour,
“All perish'd! Perish'd by the Saxon sword!
“I, with the flying Bards, sought the near woods!
“All, crowding round me died! And I, for death,
“Look'd instant, when a youthful Knight drew near
“I saw his sword, and my heart sank within!
“I raised my hands, but language I had none.
“‘Old Bard!’ He cried. ‘I will preserve thy life,
“Stanley will be thy guardian! Speed with me!
“This wood be thy retreat!’ I look'd at him!
“I only look'd. He knew the spirit's voice.
“He sigh'd and said ‘Farewell!’ Thro' bough and brake,
“I rush'd impetuous, and each step I heard,
“Murder's loud shriek! A sound that, in my ear,
“Hangs like the sun in heaven. O that my brain
“Might lose the memory of that dreadful sound!
“All night I fled. I reach'd the distant beach,
“And there, amazed, I found old Caradoc!—
“As lonely as a solitary weed,
127
“A drifting boat was near. ‘Fly!’ I exclaim'd.
“‘Let us escape to Cambria!’ Then I saw,
“By his bewilder'd look, and heedless air,
“That he had lost his reason! There he was
“Pacing alone, and whilst the passing breeze
“Disturb'd his hoary locks, often he call'd
“Upon the mermaid. With his harp he pour'd
“A mournful ditty, and to every wind,
“And every wave that roll'd along the shore,
“Told of his wrongs. The mermaid was his call.
“He said, that human hearts had ceas'd to feel,
“And he would sing, only to her he loved.
“Poor aged Caradoc! I cried, ‘Escape!
“The hour is perilous!’ Upon my harp,
“His gaze he fix'd. ‘Art thou a Bard?’ he said.
“He knew me not, most miserable sight!
“The man, whom most I prized, knew not his friend!
“His vacant eye-ball, in strange fits, and wild,
“Roll'd o'er my face. ‘Art thou a Bard?’ he cried.
“‘Thou art! One kindred spirit yet survives!
“O, no! They all are slain! Their songs have ceas'd!
“Their lips are cold! Ah! heard'st thou that? he said,
“That soft and tender note, borne on the breeze?
“It is the injured dead, from their bless'd bowers,
“Calling on Carodoc.’ With starting tear,
“Earnest again I cried! ‘My brother Bard!
“Let us escape! Here is the wave, and here
“The friendly boat to waft us o'er the tide.’
“He heard me not, but touching his sweet harp,
128
“Turn'd and his solitary path pursued.
“Here would I stop, Ah, no! it must be told.
“Before him stood a rocky pinnacle,
“Far jetting o'er the sea. Toward it he sped.
“(A sudden gust, starting from death to life.)
“I follow'd hard. I saw him climb the steep!
“When standing now upon the awful brow
“He raised his harp. I paused. The witching sounds
“Entranced my spirit. Tho' the sky was clear,
“And peacefully the sea-gull skimmed the wave,
“He thought it midnight and fierce hurricanes.
“The last song of thy aged Caradoc,
“Unmoved thou wilt not hear. Thus sang the Bard:
Like a watch-tower, I stand on the verge of the sea,
Whilst the tempest arous'd in his vehemence raves.
The deep tones of ocean, how fearful they be,
When the storm wraps in darkness the mountainous waves!
Whilst the tempest arous'd in his vehemence raves.
The deep tones of ocean, how fearful they be,
When the storm wraps in darkness the mountainous waves!
What transports are these! Like myself, in despair
The white-headed billows dash madly the shore:
I love the rude tumult, the rocking of air,
And music to me is this perilous roar.
The white-headed billows dash madly the shore:
I love the rude tumult, the rocking of air,
And music to me is this perilous roar.
Behold! The red thunderbolt ranges the sky,
Beside, rides a Spirit! Ere beheld, he is past!
Ah! seize in thine anger the bolts as they fly,
And crush me an atom upwhirl'd on the blast.
Beside, rides a Spirit! Ere beheld, he is past!
Ah! seize in thine anger the bolts as they fly,
And crush me an atom upwhirl'd on the blast.
129
I once dwelt with men, I have laugh'd o'er their tomb,
Ah, no, I have wept, and fresh tears I will shed.
What shadow is that—which still deepens the gloom?
I see it! It speaks! Ah, the vision is fled!
Ah, no, I have wept, and fresh tears I will shed.
What shadow is that—which still deepens the gloom?
I see it! It speaks! Ah, the vision is fled!
Ye lightnings burst round me! Your terrors I hail.
Come drest in fresh vengeance, thou torrent of fire!
With destruction o'erwhelming all nature assail,
And let the last gleam of existence expire.
Come drest in fresh vengeance, thou torrent of fire!
With destruction o'erwhelming all nature assail,
And let the last gleam of existence expire.
The earth with foul spells hence to Demons is bound,
If I look to the sky their dread legions appear;
If I mark the wide waters conflicting around,
Each wave is a car for the Beings I fear.
If I look to the sky their dread legions appear;
If I mark the wide waters conflicting around,
Each wave is a car for the Beings I fear.
My Harp! is it thou? hast thou seen me forlorn?—
In his anguish, one friend cheers old Caradoc's sight.
Thou art dearer to me than the blush of the morn
To the mariner wreck'd in the blackness of night.
In his anguish, one friend cheers old Caradoc's sight.
Thou art dearer to me than the blush of the morn
To the mariner wreck'd in the blackness of night.
Oppress'd and forsaken, thy sympathies bear;
O come, whilst I lean on thy joys as I go,
I will strive to forget a vile world with its care,
And pluck from my heart the deep arrow of woe.
O come, whilst I lean on thy joys as I go,
I will strive to forget a vile world with its care,
And pluck from my heart the deep arrow of woe.
Off! Off! Fiends accurs'd! In confounding array,
They have seized my sweet harp! From the clouds dark and dread,
Lo! a whirlwind advances! O bear me away
On thy wild wing of fury to rest with the dead.
They have seized my sweet harp! From the clouds dark and dread,
Lo! a whirlwind advances! O bear me away
On thy wild wing of fury to rest with the dead.
130
“Thus having sung, with a stupendous leap,
“From the tall crag, he plunged into the sea!
“The harp, for which he died, dropt from his hand!
“He thought it seized of Fiends. Friend of my heart,
“I would forget his end, not his dear name.
“O Prince! for thee and thine my prayers arise.
“From the tall crag, he plunged into the sea!
“The harp, for which he died, dropt from his hand!
“He thought it seized of Fiends. Friend of my heart,
“I would forget his end, not his dear name.
“O Prince! for thee and thine my prayers arise.
After a pause, to feeling sanctified,
Faultering Llewellyn cried, “I heard the tale
“Of Mona's minstrels. Little then I deem'd
“That thou wast safe. I fear'd to think of thee.
“O Caradoc!—I must restrain my tears,
“And bind my heart with fetters of firm brass.
“Lhyrarch! thou seest us in the whirl of strife,
“Th' impending hour is ominous, and comes
“In black array. Erelong and we will blend
“Over our fallen Bard, and his hard fate,
“And o'er his friends, the friends of human-kind,
“(Our glory blotted out) perpetual sighs.
“Now to contend with England's Lord I speed.”
Faultering Llewellyn cried, “I heard the tale
“Of Mona's minstrels. Little then I deem'd
“That thou wast safe. I fear'd to think of thee.
“O Caradoc!—I must restrain my tears,
“And bind my heart with fetters of firm brass.
“Lhyrarch! thou seest us in the whirl of strife,
“Th' impending hour is ominous, and comes
“In black array. Erelong and we will blend
“Over our fallen Bard, and his hard fate,
“And o'er his friends, the friends of human-kind,
“(Our glory blotted out) perpetual sighs.
“Now to contend with England's Lord I speed.”
The Chief Bard was one of the twenty-four great officers in the Court of the Princes of Wales, of which sixteen belonged to the Prince and eight to his Consort. The Prince's officers were the following: 1. The Mayor of the Palace, who was also General of the Army. 2. The Priest of the Household, who sat at the royal table to bless the meat, and chant the Lord's prayer. 3. The Steward, one of whose perquisites was the following: “As much of every cask of plain ale shall belong to the steward of the household, as he can reach with his middle finger dipped into it, and as much of every cask of ale with spiceries, as he can reach with the second joint of his middle finger, and as much of every cask of mead as he can reach with the first joint of the same finger.” 4. The Master of the Hawks, who was permitted to sit at the King's table, but who entered into a stipulation that he would drink no more than three times, lest he should become intoxicated and neglect his birds. 5. The Judge of the Household, the most indispensable of whose qualifications were, a learned education and a long beard: he presided at the contests of the poets and musicians which were frequently held before the King. 6. The Master of the Horse. 7. The Chamberlain, one of whose obligations was, to provide clean straw and rushes for the King's bed. 8. The Chief Musician or Bard. This officer was always very highly esteemed by the Welsh King. He sat at the King's table next to the Mayor of the Palace. “At the time he was invested with his office, the King presented him with a harp, and the Queen with a gold ring, both which he was obliged to keep as long as he lived. It was his duty to sing and play before the King, 1st. the praises of God, 2d the praises of the King, 3d. a subject of his own choice. He attended the army to battle, and before an engagement sang and played a particular song called the British Empire.” 9. The Silentiary. It was the duty of this officer to command silence in the hall when the King sat down to table; and when any quarrelling or improper noise arose, he immediately quashed it by striking the pillar with his rod. 10. The Master of the Huntsmen, who whenever he gave his oath was not required to swear, in the way that others did, but always by his horse and his dogs. 11. The Mead Maker. 12. The Physician, whose fee for curing slight wounds was, all the garments that had been stained with blood: for fractured sculls or broken legs or arms, he was entitled in addition to 180 pence. 13. The Butler. 14. The Porter, who was gentleman usher to the King, and who was entitled, at each of the great festivals, to three horns-full of a certain liquor called the twelve apostles. 15. The Master Cook; and 16, The Master of the Lights. Besides these sixteen officers, there were eleven others, one of whom was a young gentleman, whose duty it was to sit on the floor, with his back to the fire, and hold the King's feet in his bosom all the time he sat at table, to keep them comfortably warm.
All the principal families in Wales entertained a Bard, as a permanent resident.
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