 | The Works of Thomas Love Peacock |  |
40
GWYDDNAU EI CANT, PAN DDOAI Y MOR DROS CANTREV Y GWAELAWD.
A SONG OF GWYTHNO GARANHIR, ON THE INUNDATION OF THE SEA OVER THE PLAIN OF GWAELOD.
Stand forth, Seithenyn: winds are high:
Look down beneath the lowering sky;
Look from the rock: what meets thy sight?
Nought but the breakers rolling white.
Look down beneath the lowering sky;
Look from the rock: what meets thy sight?
Nought but the breakers rolling white.
Stand forth, Seithenyn: winds are still:
Look from the rock and heathy hill
For Gwythno's realm: what meets thy view?
Nought but the ocean's desert blue.
Look from the rock and heathy hill
For Gwythno's realm: what meets thy view?
Nought but the ocean's desert blue.
Curst be the treacherous mound, that gave
A passage to the mining wave:
Curst be the cup, with mead-froth crowned,
That charmed from thought the trusted mound.
A passage to the mining wave:
Curst be the cup, with mead-froth crowned,
That charmed from thought the trusted mound.
A tumult, and a cry to heaven!
The white surf breaks; the mound is riven:
Through the wide rift the ocean-spring
Bursts with tumultuous ravaging.
The white surf breaks; the mound is riven:
Through the wide rift the ocean-spring
Bursts with tumultuous ravaging.
The western ocean's stormy might
Is curling o'er the rampart's height:
Destruction strikes with want and scorn
Presumption, from abundance born.
Is curling o'er the rampart's height:
Destruction strikes with want and scorn
Presumption, from abundance born.
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The tumult of the western deep
Is on the winds, affrighting sleep:
It thunders at my chamber-door;
It bids me wake, to sleep no more.
Is on the winds, affrighting sleep:
It thunders at my chamber-door;
It bids me wake, to sleep no more.
The tumult of the midnight sea
Swells inland, wildly, fearfully:
The mountain-caves respond its shocks
Among the unaccustomed rocks.
Swells inland, wildly, fearfully:
The mountain-caves respond its shocks
Among the unaccustomed rocks.
The tumult of the vext sea-coast
Rolls inland like an armed host:
It leaves, for flocks and fertile land,
But foaming waves and treacherous sand.
Rolls inland like an armed host:
It leaves, for flocks and fertile land,
But foaming waves and treacherous sand.
The wild sea rolls where long have been
Glad homes of men, and pastures green:
To arrogance and wealth succeed
Wide ruin and avenging need.
Glad homes of men, and pastures green:
To arrogance and wealth succeed
Wide ruin and avenging need.
Seithenyn, come: I call in vain:
The high of birth and weak of brain
Sleeps under ocean's lonely roar
Between the rampart and the shore.
The high of birth and weak of brain
Sleeps under ocean's lonely roar
Between the rampart and the shore.
The eternal waste of waters, spread
Above his unrespected head,
The blue expanse, with foam besprent,
Is his too glorious monument.
Above his unrespected head,
The blue expanse, with foam besprent,
Is his too glorious monument.
| The Works of Thomas Love Peacock | |