"Hark! from Plinlimmon, 'tis the clash of arms; "Now Cambria's fons, by brave Llewellyn led, "And noble David, form'd for war's alarms,

"Lo! where they come! lifting to heav'n their fpears;
"And hark! what clangor rends the vaulted kies!
"See where they ftrive! alas, how great my fears!
Now, now, they conquer, and De Fanny flies.

..

66

Again the tongue of Terror wounds the air!

66

Hark, how yon matron on th' empurpled plain, "Wails to behold her long-lov'd dying heir

." Clasp a pale father as untimely slain!

"And lo! that bride with her dishevell'd hair,
"Amongst the fall'n her youthful partner eekfs;
E'en now she finds him: ah, unhappy fair!

.

66

"

"In vain you bathe his blood-forfaken cheeks.

Oh, that these wars inteftine were no more! "That mighty Edward would with Cimru league, "Direct his vengeance to the Gallick shore,

"And fcourge base Valois for each vile intrigue.

"O come, fweet Peace, feraphick cherub, come,
"And plant thine olive in our hostile ifle;
"Blunt the sharp faulchion, and unbrace the drum,
"That dimpled Love may with the graces fmile.

r

Forgotten Commerce then fhall foon revive,

"At Hymen's fane the maid fhall give her hand; "Beneath thy reign fhall Agriculture thrive, "And arts and science flourish through the land.

F

H

74

"O goddefs come! for thou haft pow'r alone

Te heal my much-lov'd country's bleeding woes; "To fix my prince upon his rightful throne,

And bid his brethren cease to be his foes."

Thus, for my heart was rent with forrows keen,

Sang I, with other bards, the fong of ruth;

Thus, for mine eyes beheld each mournful scene,
Sang I, by Sabrine, in the prime of youth.

"

In vain we fang; no friendly pow'r was pear,

No hand of friendship pointed to redress:

Sure, woes like ours demand a gentle tear

Of thofe who breathe a figh for man's distress.'

Thus to his harp, whilft ev'ry tongue was ftill,
hours Howel of the oak-clad hill;

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bing tears his aged eyes o'erflow,
Ampathetick of his former woe.

mayd he long, ere, raptur'd with the strain,
Warwick bid him ftrike again:
wellyn fing, nor fear to tell,
de conquer'd, and how nobly fell.

bard would charm the lift'ning throng,
not fail to lengthen out the song.
ale baron; and the rev'rend man,
..centive wait, his fong began.

Gde Fortune ! warking as the wind!
g's inconilant when compard to thee;
ched mortals, for the port del gr'd,
Coom'd thre' life to take wAYTLARIN

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rapure if de digas dhe that c

e made again, Arges de ers

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• So 'tis with us, the hapies in ff Tz
Lifted by Forane ve aile ferice:
'Till adverie Fate free inne trad
To mark the impotence of REST

Swift he partia, a de fer a 'In Africk's deara ma II 'Till where raie bei

‹ With furdy cas, whim en te Im

'Forth from these cats a warwent Ster

'Blear were her eyes, and patia ser m

/ Her crutch he mist, am all: te cmE I SAR

"Halt!" was the word; I few tam

· And all was quiet a feat of se 'When not a breeze for

'Or moves the pie an die munter : zzgl.

'Alas, weak prince! and weat

• Who looks into the book or frue tong • From such a conduct, to the wie u w 'Deception follows, and must use troop.

“ Halt!” was the word; and al amunt va 51 • When thus the chief, de tatt om te

Say (if the Definies aftri tre k." "Shall I fucceed, or bear a

"O goddess come! for thou haft pow'r alone

"To heal my much-lov'd country's bleeding woes; "To fix my prince upon his rightful throne, "And bid his brethren ceafe to be his foes."

Thus, for my heart was rent with forrows keen,

Sang I, with other bards, the fong of ruth;

Thus, for mine eyes beheld each mournful scene,
Sang I, by Sabrine, in the prime of youth.

In vain we fang; no friendly pow'r was near,
No hand of friendship pointed to redress:

Sure, woes like ours demand a gentle tear

• Of those who breathe a figh for man's distress.'

Thus to his harp, whilft ev'ry tongue was ftill,
Sang hoary Howel of the oak-clad hill;
Whilft bursting tears his aged eyes o'erflow,
Tears fympathetick of his former woe.

Nor paus'd he long, ere, raptur'd with the strain,
The mighty Warwick bid him strike again:
Of bold Llewellyn fing, nor fear to tell,
How oft he conquer'd, and how nobly fell.

And if my bard would charm the lift'ning throng,
• Let him not fail to lengthen out the song.'
So fpake the baron; and the rev'rend man,
While all attentive wait, his fong began.

Ah, fickle Fortune! wav'ring as the wind!

Nothing's inconftant when compar'd to thee; And wretched mortals, for thy fport defign'd,

Are doom'd thro' life to tafte uncertainty.

• The artless bird, entrap'd by wanton boys, Exults with rapure if fhe fcapes the fnare; • If captive made again, forgets her joys,

• And feels a double portion of defpair.

• So

So 'tis with us, the hapless fons of Woe,

Lifted by Fortune we at ills deride;
Till adverse Fate directs fome deadly blow,
To mark the impotence of human pride.

• Now Prince Llewellyn, and his conq'ring train,
• Britain's own hardy fons, a chofen crew,
• Recruit their numbers on th' enfanguin'd plain,
And thro' the dale the flying foe purfue.

Swift he purfu'd, as the fierce mountain pard,
In Africk's defarts holds his prey in view;

Till where rude Aberfraw his paffage barr'd

• With sturdy oaks, which erft the Druids knew.

Forth from these oaks a wayward Sifter came;

• Blear were her eyes, and palfied were her hands; f Her crutch fhe rais'd, then call'd the prince by name, And cried, "I wait to do thy dread commands.”

"Halt!" was the word; it flew thro' ev'ry rank,
And all was quiet as the dead of night,

• When not a breeze difturbs the reed-bed dank,
Or moves the pine upon the mountain's height,

Alas, weak prince! and weak is ev'ry one

Who looks into the book of future things; • From fuch a conduct, to the wife 'tis known, • Deception follows, and misfortune fprings.

"Halt!" was the word; and all around was still,
• When thus the chief, the trait'rous hag bespoke;
Say (if the Deftinies afford thee skill)

Shall I fucceed, or bear a tyrant's yoke ?"