TRADITION OF GELERT. 199 



" And thine I 've sacrificed to rage, 

 That fired my soul to madness ; 

 Time may roll on, 't will ne'er assuage 

 This heart's remorseful sadness. 



" A pious monument I'll rear 

 In memory of the brave ; 

 And passers-by will drop a tear 



On faithful Gelert's grave." Cambrian Quarterly. 



GELERT'S GRAVE. 



THE spearmen heard the bugle's sound, 

 And cheerly smiled the morn ; 



And many a brach and many a hound 

 Obey'd Llewellyn's horn. 



But still he blew a louder blast, 



And gave a lustier cheer ; 

 " Come, Gelert, come ! wert never last 



Llewellyn'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. 



