Imatges de pàgina
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ODIN.

No boding maid of skill divine
Art thou, nor prophetess of good;
But mother of the giant brood!

PROPHETESS.

Hie thee hence, and boast at home,

That never shall inquirer come
To break my iron-sleep again;
Till Lok has burst his tenfold chain;

Never, till substantial night
Has reassumed her ancient right;
Till wrapp'd in flames, in ruin hurl'd,
Sinks the fabric of the world.

Ver. 86. But mother of the giant brood] In the Latin, " mater trium gigantum :" probably Angerbode, who from her name seems to be "no prophetess of good;" and who bore to Loke, as the Edda says, three children, the wolf Fenris, the great serpent of Midgard, and Hela, all of them called giants in that system of mythology. MASON.

Ver. 90. Till Lok has burst his tenfold chain] Lok is the evil being, who continues in chains till the twilight of the gods approaches: when he shall break his bonds, the human race, the stars, and sun shall disappear; the earth sink in the seas, and fire consume the skies: even Odin himself and his kindred deities shall perish. MASON.

THE TRIUMPHS OF OWEN*.

A FRAGMENT.

From Mr. Evans's Specimens of the Welsh Poetry: London, 1764, quarto, p. 25, and p. 127. Owen succeeded his father Griffith app Cynan in the principality of North Wales, A. D. 1137. This battle was fought in the year 1157. Jones's Relics, vol. ii. p. 36.

OWEN'S praise demands my song,
Owen swift and Owen strong;
Fairest flower of Roderic's stem,
Gwyneth's shield, and Britain's gem.
He nor heaps his brooded stores,
Nor on all profusely pours;
Lord of every regal art,
Liberal hand, and open heart.

Big with hosts of mighty name,
Squadrons three against him came;

* The original Welsh of the above poem was the composition of Gwalchmai the son of Melir, immediately after Prince Owen Gwynedd had defeated the combined fleets of Iceland, Denmark, and Norway, which had invaded his territory on the coast of Anglesea.

Ver. 4. Gwyneth] North Wales.

ODES.

This the force of Eirin hiding,
Side by side as proudly riding,
On her shadow long and gay
Lochlin ploughs the watery way;
There the Norman sails afar
Catch the winds and join the war:
Black and huge along they sweep,
Burdens of the angry deep.

Dauntless on his native sands
The dragon son of Mona stands;
In glittering arms and glory dress'd,
High he rears his ruby crest.
There the thundering strokes begin,
There the press, and there the din;
Talymalfra's rocky shore
Echoing to the battle's roar.

Check'd by the torrent tide of blood,
Backward Meinai rolls his flood;
While, heap'd his master's feet around,
Prostrate warriors gnaw the ground.

Ver. 14. Lochlin] Denmark.

Ver. 20. The dragon son of Mona stands] The red dragon is the device of Cadwallader, which all his descendants bore on their banners. MASON.

Ver. 23. There the thundering strokes begin] "It seems (says Dr. Evans, p. 26,) that the fleet landed in some part of the firth of Menai, and that it was a kind of mixed engagement, some fighting from the shore, others from the ships; and probably the great slaughter was owing to its being low water, and that they could not sail.

Where his glowing eyeballs turn,
Thousand banners round him burn,
Where he points his purple spear,
Hasty, hasty rout is there,
Marking with indignant eye
Fear to stop, and shame to fly.
There confusion, terror's child,
Conflict fierce, and ruin wild,
Agony, that pants for breath,

Despair, and honourable death.

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THE DEATH OF HOEL.

Selected from the Gododin of Aneurin *, styled the Monarch of the Bards. He flourished about the time of Taliessin, A. D. 570. See Mr. Evans's Specimens, p. 71 and 73.

HAD I but the torrent's might,
With headlong rage and wild affright
Upon Deïra's squadrons hurl'd
To rush, and sweep them from the world!

Too, too secure in youthful pride,
By them, my friend, my Hoel, died,
Great Cian's son: of Madoc old
He ask'd no heaps of hoarded gold;

* Aneurin with the flowing Muse, King of Bards, brother to Gildas Albanius the historian, lived under Mynyddawg of Edinburgh, a prince of the North, whose Eurdorchogion, or warriors wearing the golden torques, three hundred and sixtythree in number, were all slain, except Aneurin and two others, in a battle with the Saxons at Cattraeth, on the eastern coast of Yorkshire. His Gododin, an heroic poem written on that event, is perhaps the oldest and noblest production of that age." Jones's Relics, vol. i. p 17.

Ver. 3. Upon Deira's squadrons hurl'd] The kingdom of Deïra included the counties of Yorkshire, Durham, Lancashire, Westmoreland, and Cumberland.

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