Old Severn rolls; but banks so fair as these
Old Severn views not in his Land of Hills,
Nor even where his turbid waters swell
And sully the salt sea.
By shores now cover'd with impervious woods,
Now stretching wide and low, a reedy waste,
And now through vales where earth profusely pour'd
Her treasures, gather'd from the first of days.
Sometimes a savage tribe would welcome us,
By wonder from their lethargy of life
Awaken'd; then again we voyaged on
Through tracts all desolate, for days and days,
League after league, one green and fertile mead,
That fed a thousand herds.
Rose on our view, of mount on mountain piled,
Which when I see again in memory,
Star-gazing Idris's stupendous seat
Seems dwarf'd, and Snowdon with its eagle haunts Shrinks, and is dwindled like a Saxon hill.
Here with Cadwallon and a chosen band, I left the ships. Lincoya guided us A toilsome way among the heights; at dusk We reach'd the village skirts; he bade us halt, And raised his voice; the elders of the land Came forth, and led us to an ample hut, Which in the centre of their dwellings stood, The Stranger's House. They eyed us wondering, Yet not for wonder ceased they to observe
Their hospitable rites; from hut to hut
The tidings ran that strangers were arrived,
Fatigued and hungry and athirst; anon,
Each from his means supplying us, came food
And beverage such as cheers the weary man.
Ar morning their high-priest Ayayaca
Came with our guide: the venerable man
With reverential awe accosted us,
For we, he ween'd, were children of a race
Mightier than they, and wiser, and by heaven
Beloved and favour'd more: he came to give
Fit welcome, and he led us to the Queen.
The fate of war had reft her of her realm;
Yet with affection and habitual awe,
And old remembrances, which gave their love
A deeper and religious character,
Fallen as she was, and humbled as they were,
Her faithful people still in all they could
Obey'd Erillyab. She too in her mind
Those recollections cherish'd, and such thoughts
As, though no hope allay'd their bitterness,
Gave to her eye a spirit and a strength,
And pride to features which belike had borne,
Had they been fashion'd by a happier fate,
Meaning more gentle and more womanly,
Yet not more worthy of esteem and love.
She sate upon the threshold of her hut;
For in the palace where her sires had reign'd
The conqueror dwelt. Her son was at her side,
A boy now near to manhood; by the door,
Bare of its bark, the head and branches shorn,
Stood a young tree with many a weapon hung,
Her husband's war-pole, and his monument.
There had his quiver moulder'd, his stone-axe
Had there grown green with moss, his bow-string there
Sung as it cut the wind.
With a proud sorrow in her mien; fresh fruits
Were spread before us, and her gestures said
That when he lived whose hand was wont to wield
that in better days,.. that ere
She let the tresses of her widowhood
Grow wild, she could have given to guests like us
A worthier welcome. Soon a man approach'd,
Hooded with sable, his half-naked limbs
Smear'd black; the people at his sight drew round,
The women wail'd and wept, the children turn'd
And hid their faces on their mothers' knees.
He to the Queen addrest his speech, then look'd
Around the children, and laid hands on two,
Of different sexes but of age alike
Some six years each, who at his touch shriek'd out.
But then Lincoya rose, and to my feet
Led them, and told me that the conquerors claim'd
These innocents for tribute; that the Priest
Would lay them on the altar of his god,
Pluck out their little hearts in sacrifice,
And with his brotherhood in impious rites
Feast on their flesh!.. I shudder'd, and my hand
Instinctively unsheathed the avenging sword,
As he with passionate and eloquent signs,
Eye-speaking earnestness and quivering lips,
Besought me to preserve himself, and those
Who now fell suppliant round me,.. youths and maids, Grey-headed men, and mothers with their babes.
I caught the little victims up, I kiss'd
Their innocent cheeks, I raised my eyes to heaven,
I call'd upon Almighty God to hear
And bless the vow I made; in our own tongue
Was that sworn promise of protection pledged..
Impetuous feeling made no pause for thought.
Heaven heard the vow; the suppliant multitude
Saw what was stirring in my heart; the Priest,
With eye inflamed and rapid answer, raised
His menacing hand; the tone, the bitter smile,
Interpreting his threat.
With watchful eye and steady countenance,
Had listen'd; now she rose and to the Priest
Address'd her speech. Low was her voice and calm,
As one who spake with effort to subdue
Sorrow that struggled still; but while she spake,
Her features kindled to more majesty,
Her eye became more animate, her voice
Rose to the height of feeling; on her son
She call'd, and from her husband's monument
His battle-axe she took; and I could see,
.That when she gave the boy his father's arms,
She call'd his father's spirit to look on
And bless them to his vengeance.
The tribe stood listening as Erillyab spake
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