On God, and I had comfort in my prayers.

But there were blessings for me yet in store:
Thy father knew not, when his bloody fear
All hope of an avenger had cut off,
How there existed then an unborn babe,
Child of my lawless love. Year after year
I lived a lonely and forgotten wretch,
Before Cadwallon knew his father's fate,

Long years and years before I knew my son;
For never, till his mother's dying hour,

Learnt he his dangerous birth. He sought me then ; He woke my soul once more to human ties;

I hope he hath not wean'd my heart from heaven, Life is so precious now! ...

Dear good old man! And lives he still? Goervyl ask'd, in tears; Madoc replied, I scarce can hope to find A father's welcome at my distant home. I left him full of days, and ripe for death; And the last prayer Cynetha breathed upon me Went like a death-bed blessing to my heart!

When evening came, toward the echoing shore
I and Cadwallon walk'd together forth :
Bright with dilated glory shone the west;
But brighter lay the ocean-flood below,

The burnish'd silver sea, that heaved and flash'd
Its restless rays, intolerably bright.

Prince, quoth Cadwallon, thou hast rode the waves
In triumph, when the invaders felt thine arm.
Oh what a nobler conquest might be won,

There, upon that wide field!.. What meanest thou?

...

I cried. . . . That yonder waters are not spread

...

A boundless waste, a bourne impassable!..

That man should rule the Elements ! . . that there
Might manly courage, manly wisdom find
Some happy isle, some undiscovered shore,
Some resting place for peace. . . Oh that my soul
Could seize the wings of Morning! soon would I
Behold that other world, where yonder sun
Speeds now, to dawn in glory!

As he spake

Conviction came upon my startled mind,

Like lightning on the midnight traveller.

I caught his hand;.. Kinsman and guide and friend,
Yea, let us go together!... Down we sate,
Full of the vision on the echoing shore;
One only object fill'd ear, eye, and thought:
We gazed upon the aweful world of waves,

And talk'd and dreamt of years that were to come.

IV.

THE VOYAGE.

NOT with a heart unmoved I left thy shores,
Dear native isle! oh . . . not without a pang,
As thy fair uplands lessened on the view,
Cast back the long involuntary look!
The morning cheer'd our outset; gentle airs
Curl'd the blue deep, and bright the summer sun
Play'd o'er the summer ocean, when our barks
Began their way.

And they were gallant barks,
As ever through the raging billows rode;
And many a tempest's buffeting they bore.
Their sails all swelling with the eastern breeze,
Their tighten'd cordage clattering to the mast,
Steady they rode the main; the gale aloft
Sung in the shrouds, the sparkling waters hiss'd
Before, and froth'd, and whiten'd far behind.
Day after day, with one auspicious wind,
Right to the setting sun we held our course.
My hope had kindled every heart; they blest
The unvarying breeze, whose unabating strength
Still sped us onward; and they said that Heaven
Favour'd the bold emprize.

How many a time, Mounting the mast-tower-top, with eager ken

They gazed, and fancied in the distant sky

Their promised shore, beneath the evening cloud,
Or seen, low lying, through the haze of morn.
I too with eyes as anxious watch'd the waves,
Though patient, and prepared for long delay;
For not on wild adventure had I rush'd
With giddy speed, in some delirious fit

Of fancy; but in many a tranquil hour

Weigh'd well the attempt, till hope matured to faith.
Day after day, day after day the same,..
A weary waste of waters! still the breeze
Hung heavy in our sails, and we held on
One even course: a second week was gone,
And now another past, and still the same,
Waves beyond waves, the interminable sea!
What marvel, if at length the mariners

Grew sick with long expectance? I beheld
Dark looks of growing restlessness, I heard
Distrust's low murmurings; nor avail'd it long
To see and not perceive. Shame had awhile
Represt their fear, till like a smother'd fire
It burst, and spread with quick contagion round,
And strengthen'd as it spread. They spake in tones
Which might not be mistaken; . . They had done
What men dared do, ventured where never keel
Had cut the deep before; still all was sea,
The same unbounded ocean! to proceed
Were tempting heaven.

I heard with feign'd surprise,

And, pointing then to where our fellow bark,
Gay with her fluttering streamers and full sails,
Rode, as in triumph, o'er the element,

I ask'd them what their comrades there would deem
Of those so bold ashore, who, when a day,
Perchance an hour might crown their glorious toil,
Shrunk then, and coward-like return'd to meet
Mockery and shame? True, they had ventured on
In seas unknown, beyond where ever man
Had plough'd the billows yet: more reason so
Why they should now, like him whose happy speed
Well nigh hath run the race, with higher hope
Press onward to the prize.

But late they said,
Marking the favour of the steady gale,

That heaven was with us; Heaven vouchsafed us still Fair seas and favouring skies; nor need we pray

For other aid, the rest was in ourselves;

Nature had given it, when she gave to man

Courage and constancy.

They answer'd not,

Awhile obedient; but I saw with dread

The silent sullenness of cold assent.

Then, with what fearful eagerness I gazed
At earliest daybreak, o'er the distant deep!
How sick at heart with hope, when evening closed,
Gazed through the gathering shadows!... but I saw
The sun still sink below the endless waves,
And still at morn, beneath the farthest sky,
Unbounded ocean heaved. Day after day
Before the steady gale we drove along, . .
Day after day! The fourth week now had past;
Still all around was sea, the eternal sea!

So long that we had voyaged on so fast,
And still at morning where we were at night,
And where we were at morn, at nightfall still,