184 



symbolical, as representing immortality, and not as some had thought for the 

 purpose of making bow-staves for the parish, for curiously enough the bows 

 of the English archers, "dreadful with the bended yew," had been generally 

 made of foreign wood, supposed to be the better material. Hence, in many 

 instances, the original Saxon or Norman church had been built beside a yew 

 tree that stood on a convenient site, and it was not always the yew that was 

 brought to be planted by the church. Oaks, in accordance to an old adage, 

 might very well stand for 900 years, and probably the celebrated Moccas oak 

 was as much as this. Where a yew was hollow, it was not so easy to deter- 

 mine its age, because, as in the case of one of the Cradley yews, fresh layers of 

 alburnum descending from above had surrounded and encased the old decaying 

 hole. Several other noble Herefordshire trees were adverted to, as some 

 grand yews on the Ridgeway, near Eastnor, those in Stanford Bishop church- 

 yard, of very great magnitude, one 27ft. in girth ; and the stag's-hom oaks at 

 Col wall, where the Bishops of Hereford once had a hunting- seat. 



Mr. Lees was prepared to have extended his observations much further, 

 but as it was announced that the railway train for Hereford was approaching, 

 the proceedings were necessarily brought to an abrupt conclusion. The 

 company now hastily snatched up their impedimenta, and hastening to the 

 railway, a very pleasant meeting was most satisfactorily ended by a safe 

 journey homewards. 



A LEGEND OF LLYNSAFADDAN. 



Under the title of " Cyiifig," the same story, with variation 

 related in the lolo MSS. 



W here mountain heights siurroond the vale, 

 And humbler hills their summits rear 



To ornament the spreading dale, 

 Amid a marish dank and drear, • 



Calm as the glow of summer skies, 



The lake of old Brechelniog lies. 



Tradition tells, in days of yore 

 (Dates suit not this mysterious tale), 



Where the lake spreads its watery store, 

 A village smiled amid the vale, 



And there its lovely Lady dwelt, 



To whom an humble Suitor knelt. 



A wealthy dower the Maiden owned. 



Yet coveting augmented store, 

 The suitor's poverty she scorned. 



And bade him see her face no more : 

 His melancholy way he went, 

 On thoughts of love and wealth intent. 



When in a solitary place 



A travelling Merchant crossed the way, 

 A man of wealth — with rapid pace 



The Suitor fell upon his prey : 

 Beneath his sword the Merchant dies. 

 The murderer seizes on the prize : 



