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With fur and flowing low, the bonnet last,
Form'd of some forest martin's costly spoils.
The Lord of Dinevawr sat at the dice
With Madoc, when he saw him, thus array'd,
Returning to the hall. Aye! this is well!
The noble Chief exclaim'd; 't is as of yore,
When in Aberfraw, at his father's board,
We sat together, after we had won

Peace and rejoicing with our own right hands,
By Corwen, where, commixt with Saxon blood,
Along its rocky channel the dark Dee

Roll'd darker waters... Would that all his house
Had, in their day of trouble thought of me,
And honour'd me like this! David respects
Deheubarth's strength, nor would respect it less,
When such protection leagued its cause with Heaven.

I had forgot his messenger! quoth he, Arising from the dice. Go, bid him here! He came this morning at an ill-starr'd hour, To Madoc he pursued; my lazy grooms Had let the hounds play havoc in my flock, And my old blood was chafed. I'faith, the King Hath chosen well his messenger:

he saw

That in such mood, I might have render'd him
A hot and hasty answer, and hath waited,
Perhaps to David's service and to mine,
My better leisure.

Now the Messenger
Enter'd the hall; Goagan of Powys-land,
He of Caer-Einion was it, who was charged

From Gwyneth to Deheubarth; a brave man

Of copious speech. He told the royal son
Of Gryffidd, the descendant of the line
Of Rhys-ab-Tudyr mawr, that he came there
From David, son of Owen, of the stock
Of kingly Cynan. I am sent, said he,
With friendly greeting; and as I receive
Welcome and honour, so, in David's name,
Am I to thank the Lord of Dinevawr.

Tell on! quoth Rhys, the purport and the cause Of this appeal?

Of late, some fugitives Came from the South to Mona, whom the King Received with generous welcome. Some there were Who blamed his royal goodness; for they said, These were the subjects of a rival Prince, Who, peradventure, would with no such bounty Cherish a northern suppliant. This they urged, I know not if from memory of old feuds, Better forgotten, or in envy. Moved Hereby, King David swore he would not rest Till he had put the question to the proof, Whether with liberal honour the Lord Rhys Would greet his messenger; but none was found Of all who had instill'd that evil doubt, Ready to bear the embassy: I heard it,

And did my person tender,

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for I knew

The nature of Lord Rhys of Dinevawr.

Well! quoth the Chief, Goagan of Powys-land, This honourable welcome that thou seekest Wherein may it consist?

In giving me,

Goagan of Powys-land replied, a horse
Better than mine, to bear me home; a suit
Of seemly raiment, and ten marks in coin,
With raiment and two marks for him who leads
My horse's bridle.

For his sake, said Rhys,

Who sent thee, thou shalt have the noblest steed
In all my studs, .. I double thee the marks,
And give the raiment threefold. More than this, ..
Say thou to David, that the guests who sit
At board with me, and drink of my own cup,
Are Madoc and Lord Ririd. Tell the King,
That thus it is Lord Rhys of Dinevawr
Delighteth to do honour to the sons

Of Owen, of his old and honour'd friend.

XIII.

LLEWELYN.

Farewell, my brother, cried the Ocean Chief;
A little while farewell! as through the gate
Of Dinevawr he pass'd, to pass again
That hospitable threshold never more.

And thou too O thou good old man, true friend
Of Owen, and of Owen's house, farewell!

T will not be told me, Rhys, when thy grey hairs
Are to the grave gone down; but oftentimes
In the distant world I shall remember thee,
And think that, come thy summons when it may,
Thou will not leave a braver man behind..
Now God be with thee, Rhys !

The old Chief paused

A moment ere he answer'd, as for pain;
Then shaking his hoar head, I never yet
Gave thee this hand unwillingly before!
When for a guest I spread the board, my heart
Will think on him, whom ever with most joy
It leapt to welcome: should I lift again
The spear against the Saxon, . . for old Rhys
Hath that within him yet, that could uplift
The Cimbric spear, I then shall wish his aid,
Who oft has conquer'd with me: when I kneel

In prayer to Heaven, an old man's prayer shall beg A blessing on thee !

Madoc answer'd not,

But press'd his hand in silence, then sprang up
A weary way,

And spurr'd his courser on.
Through forest and o'er fell, Prince Madoc rode;
And now he skirts the bay whose reckless waves
Roll o'er the plain of Gwaelod: fair fields
And busy towns and happy villages,
They overwhelm'd in one disastrous day;
For they by their eternal siege had sapp'd
The bulwark of the land, while Seithenyn
Took of his charge no thought, till in his sloth
And riotous cups surprised, he saw the waves
Roll like an army o'er the levell'd mound.
A supplicant in other courts, he mourn'd
His crime and ruin; in another's court
The kingly harp of Garanhir was heard,
Wailing his kingdom wreck'd; and many a Prince,
Warn'd by the visitation, sought and gain'd

A saintly crown, Tyneio, Merini,
Boda and Brenda and Aëlgyvarch,
Gwynon and Celynin and Gwynodyl.

To Bardsey was the Lord of Ocean bound; Bardsey, the holy Islet, in whose soil Did many a Chief and many a Saint repose, His great progenitors. He mounts the skiff; Her canvass swells before the breeze, the sea Sings round her sparkling keel, and soon the Lord Of Ocean treads the venerable shore.

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