GORWEN TO BALA. 19I 



Returning fpring, like opening day, 

 That makes all nature glad and gay, 

 Prcpare's Andate's fiery car. 

 To roufe the brethren of the war ; 

 When as the youthful hero's breaft 

 Gloweth for the glorious teft, 

 Rufliiug down the rocky fteep, 

 See the Cambrian legions fweep, 

 Like meteors on the boundlefs deep. 



Old Motia f miles 

 Monarch of an hundred ifles. 

 And Snoiudon from his awful height. 

 His hoar head waves propitious to the fight. 



But I - no more in youthful pride, 

 Can dare the fteep rock's haughty fide ; 

 For fell difeafe my finews rends. 

 My arm unnerves, my flout heart bends ; 

 And raven locks, now filver-grey. 

 Keep ine from the field away. 



But fee!— He comes, all drench'd in blood. 



Given, the Great, and Owen, the Good ; 



Braveft, nobleS, worthieft fon. 



Rich with many a conqueft won ; 



Gwen, in thine anger great. 



Strong thine arm, thy frown like fate ; 



Where the mighty rivers end. 



And their coiirfe to ocean bend. 



There, with the eagle's rapid flight. 



How wouldft thou brave the thickeft fight ! 



Oh, fatal day ! Oh, ruthlefs deed ! 



When the fillers cut thy thread. 



Ceafe, ye waves, your troubled roarj 



Nor flow, ye mighty rivers more ; 



For GW«, the Great, and Gnuen, the Good, 



Breathlefs lies, and drench'd in blood ! 



Four 



