And still he blew a louder blast, 



And gave a lustier cheer ; 

 " Come, Gelert, come, wert never last 



Llewelyn's horn to hear." — 



Oh where does faithful Gelert roam, 



The flower of all his race ; 

 So true, so brave, a lamb at home, 



"A lion in the chase"? 



'Twas only at Llewelyn's board 



The faithful Gelert fed ; 

 He watch'd, he served, he cheer'd his lord, 



And sentinel'd his bed. 



In sooth he was a peerless hound, 



The gift of royal John ; 

 But now no Gelert could be found, 



And all the chase rode on. 



And now, as o'er the rocks and dells 



The gallant chidings rise, 

 All Snowdon's craggy chaos yells 



The many-mingled cries ! 



That day Llewelyn little lov'd 



The chase of hart and hare ; 

 And scant and small the booty prov'd, 



For Gelert was not there. 

 107 



