More exquisitely sweet than ever art
Of man evoked from instrument of touch, Or beat, or breath. It was the evening gale, Which passing o'er the harp of Caradoc, Swept all its chords at once, and blended all Their music into one continuous flow.
The solitary Bard beside his harp
Leant underneath a tree, whose spreading boughs, With broken shade that shifted to the breeze, Play'd on the waving waters. Overhead There was the leafy murmur, at his foot The lake's perpetual ripple; and from far, Borne on the modulating gale, was heard The roaring of the mountain-cataract. . . A blind man would have loved the lovely spot.
Here was Senena by her Lady led, Trembling, but not reluctant. They drew nigh, Their steps unheard upon the elastic moss, Till playfully Goervyl, with quick touch, Ran o'er the harp-strings. At the sudden sound He rose... Hath then thy hand, quoth she, O Bard, Forgot its cunning, that the wind should be Thine harper?.. Come! one strain for Britain's sake; And let the theme be Woman!.. He replied, But if the strain offend, O Lady fair,
Blame thou the theme, not me!.. Then to the harp He sung,.. Three things a wise man will not trust, The Wind, the Sunshine of an April day, And Woman's plighted faith. I have beheld The Weathercock upon the steeple-point Steady from morn till eve; and I have seen
The bees go forth upon an April moru,
Secure the sunshine will not end in showers; But when was Woman true?
With smile of playful anger, she exclaim'd,
False Bard! and slanderous song! Were such thy thoughts
Of woman, when thy youthful lays were heard In Heilyn's hall?.. But at that name his heart Leapt, and his cheek with sudden flush was fired; In Heilyn's hall, quoth he, I learn'd the song. There was a Maid, who dwelt among the hills Of Arvon, and to one of humbler birth
Had pledged her troth;.. nor rashly, nor beguiled,.. They had been playmates in their infancy, And she in all his thoughts had borne a part, And all his joys. The Moon and all the Stars Witness'd their mutual vows; and for her sake The song was framed; for in the face of day She broke them... But her name? Goervyl ask'd; Quoth he, The poet loved her still too well, To couple it with shame.
Of womankind! she cried; our virtues bloom, Like violets, in shade and solitude, While evil eyes hunt all our failings out, For evil tongues to bruit abroad in jest, And song of obloquy!..I knew a Maid, And she too dwelt in Arvon, and she too Loved one of lowly birth, who ill repaid Her spotless faith; for he to ill reports, And tales of falsehood cunningly devised,
Lent a light ear, and to his rival left
The loathing Maid. The wedding-day arrived, The harpers and the gleemen, far and near, Came to the wedding-feast; the wedding-guests Were come, the altar drest, the bridemaids met, The father, and the bridegroom, and the priest Wait for the bride. But she the while did off
Her bridal robes, and clipt her golden locks, And put on boy's attire, through wood and wild To seek her own true love; and over sea, Forsaking all for him, she followed him,.. Nor hoping nor deserving fate so fair;
And at his side she stood, and heard him wrong Her faith with slanderous tales; and his dull eye, As it had learnt his heart's forgetfulness,
Knows not the trembling one, who even now Yearns to forgive him all!
The blue-eyed Maid, who fell upon his breast.
HARK! from the towers of Aztlan how the shouts Of clamorous joy re-ring! the rocks and hills Take up the joyful sound, and o'er the lake Roll their slow echoes... Thou art beautiful, Queen of the Valley! thou art beautiful! Thy walls, like silver, sparkle to the sun; Melodious wave thy groves, thy garden-sweets Enrich the pleasant air, upon the lake Lie the long shadows of thy towers, and high In heaven thy temple-pyramids arise, Upon whose summit now, far visible
Against the clear blue sky, the Cross of Christ Proclaims unto the nations round the news Of thy redemption. Thou art beautiful, Aztlan ! O City of the Cymbric Prince! Long mayest thou flourish in thy beauty, long Prosper beneath the righteous conqueror, Who conquers to redeem! Long years of And happiness await thy Lord and thee, Queen of the Valley!
The Hoamen came to repossess the land Of their forefathers. Joyfully the youth Come shouting, with acclaim of grateful praise, Their great Deliverer's name; the old, in talk
Of other days, which mingled with their joy Memory of many a hard calamity,
And thoughts of time and change, and human life How changeful and how brief. Prince Madoc met Erillyab at the gate... Sister and Queen, Said he, here let us hold united reign, O'er our united people; by one faith, One interest bound, and closer to be link'd By laws and language and domestic ties, Till both become one race, for ever more Indissolubly knit.
O friend, she cried,
The last of all my family am I ;
Yet sure, though last, the happiest, and by Heaven Favoured abundantly above them all.
Dear Friend, and brother dear! enough for me Beneath the shadow of thy shield to dwell, And see my people, by thy fostering care, Made worthy of their fortune. Graciously Hath the Beloved One appointed all, Educing good from ill, himself being good. Then to the royal palace of the Kings
Of Aztlan, Madoc led Erillyab,
There where her sires had held their ruder reign,
Το pass the happy remnant of her
Honour'd and loved by all.
Provided for defence, disposing all
As though a ready enemy approach'd. But from Patamba yet no army moved: Four Heralds only, by the King dispatch'd,
Drew nigh the town. The Hoamen as they came,
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