THE DYING BARD. AIR-Daffydz Gangwen. The Welch tradition bears, that a Bard, on his death-bed, demanded his harp, and played the air to which these verses are adapted; requesting, that it might be performed at his funeral. I. DINAS EMLINN, lament; for the moment is nigh, II. In spring and in autumn, thy glories of shade that sung. III. Thy sons, Dinas Emlinn, may march in their pride, And chase the proud Saxon from Prestatyn's side; But where is the harp shall give life to their name? And where is the bard shall give heroes their fame? IV. And Oh, Dinas Emlinn! thy daughters so fair, V. Then adieu, silver Teivi! I quit thy loved scene, VI. And adieu, Dinas Emlinn! still green be thy shades, Unconquered thy warriors, and matchless thy maids! And thou, whose faint warblings my weakness can tell! Farewell, my loved Harp! my last treasure, farewell! M THE MAID OF TORO. O, Low shone the sun on the fair lake of Toro, And weak were the whispers that waved the dark wood, All as a fair maiden, bewildered in sorrow, Sorely sighed to the breezes, and wept to the flood. “O, saints! from the mansions of bliss lowly bending ; Sweet Virgin! who hearest the suppliant's cry, Now grant my petition, in anguish ascending, All distant and faint were the sounds of the battle, Slowly approaching a warrior was seen; Life's ebbing tide marked his footsteps so weary, "O, save thee, fair maid, for our armies are flying! O save thee, fair maid, for thy guardian is low! Deadly cold on yon heath thy brave Henry is lying; And fast through the woodland approaches the foe.”— Scarce could he faulter the tidings of sorrow, And scarce could she hear them, benumb'd with despair: And when the sun sunk on the sweet lake of Toro, For ever he set to the Brave, and the Fair. HELLVELLYN. In the spring of 1805, a young gentleman of talents, and of a most amiable disposition, perished by losing his way on the mountain Hellvellyn. His remains were not discovered till three months afterwards, when they were found guarded by a faithful terrier-bitch, his constant attendant during frequent solitary rambles through the wilds of Cumberland and Westmoreland. I CLIMBED the dark brow of the mighty Hellvellyn, And starting around me the echoes replied. On the right, Striden-edge round the Red-tarn was bending, One huge nameless rock in the front was ascending, Dark green was that spot mid the brown mountain-heather, |