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If but ambition come?-Thou deemëst sure
Thy brethren love thee;-ye have played together
In childhood, shared your riper hopes and fears,
Fought side by side in battle:—they may be
Brave, generous, all that once their father was,
Whom ye, I ween, call virtuous.

At the name,

With pious warmth I cried, Yes, he was good,
And great, and glorious! Gwyneth's ancient annals
Boast not a name more noble in the war
Fearless he was, the Saxon proved him so;
Wise was his counsel, and no supplicant
For justice ever from his palace-gate
Carighted turned away. King Owen's name
Shall live in the after-world without a blot!

There were two brethren once, of kingly line,
The old man replied; they loved each other well,
And when the one was at his dying hour,
It then was comfort to him that he left
So dear a brother, who would duly pay
A father's duties to his orphan boy.
And sure he loved the orphan, and the boy
With all a child's sincerity loved him,
And learnt to call him father: so the
years
Went on, till, when the orphan gained the age
Of manhood, to the throne his uncle came.
The young man claimed a fair inheritance,
His father's lands, and-mark what follows, prince;
At midnight he was seized, and to his eyes
The brazen plate was held-He looked around
His prison-room for help,-he only saw
The ruffian forms, who to the red-hot brass
Forced his poor eyes, and held the open lids,
Till the long agony consumed the sense;
And when their hold relaxed, it had been worth
The wealth of worlds if he could then have seen
Their ruffian faces!-I am blind, young prince,
And I can tell how sweet a thing it is
To see the blessed light!

Must more be told?
What farther agonies he yet endured?
Or hast thou known the consummated crime,
And heard Cynetha's fate? **

A painful glow
Inflamed my cheek, and for my father's crime
I felt the shame of guilt. The dark-browed man
Beheld the burning flush, the uneasy eye,

That knew not where to rest. Come! we will search
The slain! arising from his seat, he said.
I followed; to the field of fight we went,
And over steeds and arms and men we held
Our way in silence. Here it was, quoth he,
The fiercest war was waged; lo! in what heaps
Man upon man fell slaughtered! Then my heart
Smote me,
and my knees shook; for I beheld
Where, on his conquered foeman, Hoel lay.

He paused, his heart was full, and on his tongue
The imperfect utterance died; a general gloom
Saddened the hall, and David's cheek grew pale.
Commanding first his nature, Madoc broke
The oppressive silence.

Then Cadwallon took
My hand, and, pointing to his dwelling, cried,
Prince, go and rest thee there, for thou hast need

Of rest; the care of sepulture be mine.
Nor did I then comply, refusing rest,
Till I had seen in holy ground inearthed
My poor lost brother. Wherefore, he exclaimed,
(And I was awed by his severer eye)

Wouldst thou be pampering thy distempered mind?
Affliction is not sent in vain, young man,

From that good God, who chastens whom he loves!
Oh! there is healing in the bitter cup!
Go yonder, and before the unerring will
Bow, and have comfort! To the hut I went,
And there beside the lonely mountain-stream,
I veiled my head, and brooded on the past.
He tarried long; I felt the hours pass by,
As in a dream of morning, when the mind,
Half to reality awakened, blends
With airy visions and vague fantasies
Her dim perception; till at length his step
Aroused me,
and he came. I questioned him,
Where is the body? hast thou bade the priests
Perform due masses for his soul's repose?

He answered me, The rain and dew of heaven
Will fall upon the turf that covers him,
And greener grass shall flourish on his grave.
But rouse thee, prince! there will be hours enough
For mournful memory;-it befits thee now
Take counsel for thyself:-the son of Owen
Lives not in safety here.

I bowed my head
Oppressed by heavy thoughts: all wretchedness
The present; darkness on the future lay;
Fearful and gloomy both. I answered not.

Hath power seduced thy wishes? he pursued,
And wouldst thou seize upon thy father's throne ?
Now God forbid! quoth I. Now God forbid!
Quoth he; but thou art dangerous, prince! and what
Shall shield thee from the jealous arm of power?
Think of Cynetha!-the unsleeping eye
Of justice hath not closed upon his wrongs;-
At length the avenging arm is gone abroad,-
One woe is past,-woe after woe comes on,-
There is no safety here,-here thou must be
The victim or the murderer! Does thy heart
Shrink from the alternative!-look round!-behold
What shelter,-whither wouldst thou fly for peace?
What if the asylum of the church were safe,-
Were there no better purposes ordained
For that young arm, that heart of noble hopes?
Son of our kings,-of old Cassibelan,
Great Caratach, immortal Arthur's line-
Oh, shall the blood of that heroic race
Stagnate in cloister sloth ?-Or wouldst thou leave
Thy native isle, and beg in awkward phrase
Some foreign sovereign's charitable grace,-
The Saxon or the Frank,-and earn his gold,-
The hireling in a war whose cause thou knowest not,
Whose end concerns not thee?

I sate and gazed,
Following his eye with wonder, as he paced
Before me to and fro, and listening still,
Though now he paced in silence. But anon,
The old man's voice and step awakened us,
Each from his thought; I will come out, said he,
That I may sit beside the brook, and feel

The comfortable sun. As forth he came,
I could not chuse but look upon his face :
Gently on him had gentle nature laid
The weight of years! all passions that disturb
Were past away; the stronger lines of grief
Softened and settled, till they told of grief
By patient hope and piety subdued.

His

eyes, which had their hue and brightness left, Fixed lifelessly, or objectless they rolled,

Nor moved by sense, nor animate with thought.
On a smooth stone beside the stream he took

His wonted seat in the sunshine. Thou hast lost
A brother, prince, he cried,-or the dim ear
Of age deceived me. Peace be with his soul!
And may the curse that lies upon the house
Of Owen turn away! wilt thou come hither,
And let me feel thy face?-1 wondered at him;
Yet while his hand perused my lineaments,
Deep awe and reverence filled me. O my God,
Bless this young man! he cried; a perilous state
Is his;-but let not thou his father's sins
Be visited on him!

I raised my eyes,
Inquiring, to Cadwallon: Nay, young prince,
Despise not thou the blind man's prayer! he cried;
It might have given thy father's dying hour
A hope, that sure he needed!-for, know thou,
It is the victim of thy father's crime,
Who asks a blessing on thee!

At his feet

I fell, and claspt his knees: he raised me up;—
Blind as I was, a mutilated wretch,

A thing that nature owns not, I survived,
Loathing existence, and with impious voice
Accused the will of heaven, and groaned for death.
Years past away; this universal blank
Became familiar, and my soul reposed
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 weaned my heart from heaven,
Life is so precious now!-

Dear good old man;
And lives he still? Goervyl cried, 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 walked together forth :
Bright with dilated glory shone the west;
But brighter lay the ocean-flood below,
The burnished silver sea, that heaved and flashed
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 bourn 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 filled ear, eye, and thought:
We gazed upon the awful world of waves,

And talked and dreamt of years that were to come.

IV.

The Copage.

Nor with a heart unmoved I left thy shores,
Dear native isle! oh-not without a pang,
As thy fair uplands lessened on the view, 23
Cast back the long involuntary look!
The morning cheered our outset ; gentle airs
Curled the blue deep, and bright the summer sun
Played 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 tightened cordage clattering to the mast,
Steady they rode the main; the gale aloft
Sung in the shrouds, the sparkling waters hissed
Before, and frothed, and whitened 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
Favoured 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! 24
I too with eyes as anxious watched the waves,
Though patient, and prepared for long delay;
For not on wild adventure had I rushed
With giddy speed, in some delirious fit
Of fancy; but in many a tranquil hour

Weighed 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!

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What marvel, if at length the mariners
Grew sick with long expectance? I beheld
Dark looks of growing restlessness, I heard
Distrust's low murmuring; nor availed it long
To see and not perceive. Shame had awhile
Represt their fear, till like a smothered fire
It burst, and spread with quick contagion round,
And strengthened 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 feigned 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 asked 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 returned to meet
Mockery and shame? true, they had ventured on
In seas unknown, beyond where ever man
Had ploughed the billows yet: more reason so
Why they should now, like him whose happy speed
Well nigh had 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 answered 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,
The centre of that drear circumference,
Progressive, yet no change!—almost it seemed
That we had past the mortal bounds of
space,
And speed was toiling in infinity.
My days were days of fear, my hours of rest
Were like a tyrant's slumber. Sullen looks,
Eyes turned on me, and whispers meant to meet
My ear, and loud despondency, and talk
Of home, now never to be seen again,-

I suffered these, dissembling as I could,

Till that availed no longer. Resolute

The men came round me: They had shown.enough Of courage now, enough of constancy;

Still to pursue the desperate enterprise

Were impious madness! they had deemed, indeed, That Heaven in favour gave the unchanging gale;More reason now to think offended God,

When man's presumptuous folly strove to pass
The fated limits of the world, had sent
The winds, to waft us to the death we sought.
Their lives were dear, they bade me know, and they
Many, and I the obstinate but one.

With that, attending no reply, they hailed

Our fellow bark, and told our fixed resolve:

A shout of joy approved. Thus, desperate now,
I sought my solitary cabin; there,

Confused with vague tumultuous feelings, lay,
And to remembrance and reflection lost,
Knew only I was wretched.

Thus entranced Cadwallon found me; shame, and grief, and pride, And baffled hope, and fruitless anger swelled Within me. All is over! I exclaimed;

Yet not in me, my friend, hath time produced
These tardy doubts and shameful fickleness;
I have not failed, Cadwallon! Nay, he cried,
The coward fears which persecuted me
Have shown what thou hast suffered.
One hope-I prayed them to proceed a day,—
But one day more;-this little have I gained,
And here will wait the issue; in yon bark

We have yet

I am not needed,—they are masters there.

One only day!-The gale blew strong, the bark
Sped through the waters; but the silent hours,
Who make no pause, went by; and centered still,
We saw the dreary vacancy of heaven
Close round our narrow view, when that brief term,
The last poor respite of our hopes expired.
They shortened sail, and called with coward prayer
For homeward winds. Why, what poor slaves are we!
In bitterness I cried; the sport of chance;
Left to the mercy of the elements,
Or the more wayward will of such as these,
Blind tools and victims of their destiny!
Yea, Madoc! he replied, the elements
Master indeed the feeble powers of man!
Not to the shores of Cambria will thy ships
Win back their shameful way!-or HE, whose will
Unchains the winds, hath bade them minister
To aid us, when all human hope was gone,
Or we shall soon eternally repose
From life's long voyage.

As he spake, I saw
The clouds hang thick and heavy o'er the deep;
And heavily, upon the long slow sweli,
The vessel laboured on the labouring sea.
The reef points rattled on the shivering sail;
At fits the sudden gust howled ominous,
Anon with unremitting fury raged;
High rolled the mighty billows, and the blast
Swept from their sheeted sides the showery foam,
Vain, now, were all the seamen's homeward hopes,
Vain all their skill!-we drove before the storm.

T is pleasant, by the chearful hearth, to hear
Of tempests, and the dangers of the deep,
And pause at times, and feel that we are safe;
Then listen to the perilous tale again,
And with an eager and suspended soul,
Woo terror to delight us-But to hear
The roaring of the raging elements,--

To know all human skill, all human strength,

Avail not,-to look round, and only see
The mountain wave incumbent with its weight
Of bursting waters, o'er the reeling bark,-
O God, this is indeed a dreadful thing!
And he who hath endured the horror once
Of such an hour, doth never hear the storm
Howl round his home, but he remembers it,
And thinks upon the suffering mariner!

Onward we drove: with unabating force
The tempest raged; night added to the storm
New horrors, and the morn arose, o'erspread
With heavier clouds. The weary mariners
Called on Saint Cyric's 25 aid; and I too placed
My hope on heaven, relaxing not the while
Our human efforts. Ye who dwell at home,
Ye do not know the terrors of the main!
When the winds blow, ye walk along the shore,
And, as the curling billows leap and toss,
Fable that Ocean's mermaid Shepherdess
Drives her white flocks afield, and warns in time
The wary fisherman. Gwenhidwy 26 warned us
When we had no retreat! My secret heart
Almost had failed me.-Were the Elements`
Confounded in perpetual conflict here,
Sea, Air, and Heaven? Or were we perishing
Where at their source the Floods, for ever thus,
Beneath the nearer influence of the Moon,
Laboured in these mad workings? 27 Did the Waters
Here on their outmost circle meet the Void, 28
The verge and brink of Chaos? or this Earth,-
Was it indeed a living thing, 29-its breath
The ebb and flow of Ocean? and had we
Reached the storm rampart of its Sanctuary,
The insuperable boundary, raised to guard
Its mysteries from the eye of man profane?
Three dreadful nights and days we drove along;
The fourth, the welcome rain came rattling down:
The wind had fallen, and through the broken cloud
Appeared the bright dilating blue of heaven.
Emboldened now, I called the mariners:-
Vain were it should we bend a homeward course,
Driven by the storm so far: they saw our barks,
For service of that long and perilous way,
Disabled, and our food belike to fail.
Silent they heard, reluctant in assent;
Anon, they shouted joyfully,—I looked
And saw a bird slow sailing overhead,

His long white pinions by the sunbeam edged
As though with burnished silver;-never yet
Heard I so sweet a music as his cry!

Yet three days more, and hope more eager now,
Sure of the signs of land,-weed-shoals, and birds
Who flocked the main, and gentle airs which breathed,
Or seemed to breathe, fresh fragrance from the shore. 30
On the last evening, a long shadowy line
Skirted the sea;-how fast the night closed in!
I stood upon the deck, and watched till dawn.
But who can tell what feelings filled my heart,
When like a cloud the distant land arose
Grey from the ocean,-when we left the ship,
And cleft, with rapid oars, the shallow wave,
And stood triumphant on another world!

V.

Lincoya.

MADOC had paused a while; but every eye

Still watched his lips, and every voice was hushed.
Soon as I leapt ashore, pursues the Lord

Of Ocean, prostrate on my face I fell,

Kissed the dear earth, and prayed with thankful tears.
Hard by a brook was flowing;-never yet,
Even from the gold-tipt horn of victory
With harp and song amid my father's hall,
Pledged I so sweet a draught, as lying there,
Beside that streamlet's brink!—to feel the ground,
To quaff the cool clear water, to inhale
The breeze of land, while fears and dangers past
Recurred and heightened joy, as summer storms
Make the fresh evening lovelier!

To the shore

The natives thronged; astonished, they beheld
Our winged barks, and gazed in wonderment
On the strange garb and bearded countenance
And skin so white, in all unlike themselves.
I see with what inquiring eyes you ask

What men were they? Of dark-brown colour, tinged
With sunny redness; wild of eye; their brows
So smooth, as never yet anxiety

Nor busy thought had made a furrow there;
Beardless, and each to each of lineaments
So like, they seemed but one great family.
Their loins were loosely cinctured, all beside
Bare to the sun and wind; and thus their limbs
Unmanacled displayed the truest forms
Of strength and beauty: fearless sure they were,
And while they eyed us grasped their spears, as if,
Like Britain's injured but unconquered sons,
They too had known how perilous it was
To see an armed stranger set his foot
In their free country.

Soon the courteous guise
Of men nor purporting nor fearing ill,
Won confidence; their wild distrustful looks
Assumed a milder meaning; over one

I cast my mantle, on another's head

The velvet bonnet placed, and all was joy.

We now besought for food; at once they read

Our gestures, but I cast a hopeless eye

On mountains, thickets, woods, and marshy plains,
A waste of rank luxuriance all around.
Thus musing to a lake I followed them,
Left when the rivers to their summer course
Withdrew; they scattered on its water drugs
Of such strange potency, that soon the shoals
Cooped there by Nature prodigally kind,
Floated inebriate. As I gazed, a deer
Sprung from the bordering thicket; the true shaft
Scarce with the distant victim's blood had stained
Its point, when instantly he dropt and died,
Such deadly juice imbued it; yet on this
We made our meal unharmed, and I perceived
The wisest leech that ever in our world
Culled herbs of hidden virtue, was to these
Even as an infant.

Sorrowing we beheld
The night come on; but soon did night display

More wonders than it veiled: innumerous tribes From the wood-cover swarmed, and darkness made Their beauties visible; one while they streamed │A bright blue radiance upon flowers which closed Their gorgeous colours from the eye of day; Now motionless and dark eluded search, Self-shrouded; and anon starring the sky Rose like a shower of fire.

Our friendly hosts
Now led us to the hut, our that night's home,
A rude and spacious dwelling: twisted boughs,
And canes and withies formed the walls and roof;
And from the unhewn trunks which pillared it,
Low nets of interwoven reeds 31 were hung.
With shouts of honour here they gathered round me,
Ungarmented my limbs, and in a net

With softest feathers lined, a pleasant couch,
They laid and left me.

To our ships returned,
After soft sojourn here we coasted on,
Insatiate of the wonders and the charms
Of earth and air and sea. Thy summer woods
Are lovely, O my mother isle! the birch
Light bending on thy banks, thy elmy vales,
Thy venerable oaks!-but there, what forms
Of beauty clothed the inlands and the shore!
All these in stateliest growth, and mixt with these
Dark spreading cedar, and the cypress tall,
Its pointed summit waving to the wind
Like a long beacon flame; and loveliest
Amid a thousand strange and lovely shapes,
The lofty palm, that with its nuts supplied

Beverage and food; they edged the shore and crowned
The far-off mountain summits, their straight stems
Bare without leaf or bough erect and smooth,
Their tresses nodding like a crested helm,
The plumage of the grove.

Will ye believe

The wonders of the ocean? how its shoals

Once when a chief was feasting us on shore,
A captive served the food: I marked the youth,
For he had features of a gentler race;
And oftentimes his eye was fixed on me,
With looks of more than wonder. We returned
At evening to our ships; at night a voice
Came from the sea, the intelligible voice
Of earnest supplication: he had swam
To trust our mercy; up the side he sprung,
And looked among the crew, and singling me,
Fell at my feet. Such friendly tokenings
As our short commerce with the native tribes
Had taught, I proffered, and sincerity
Gave force and meaning to the half-learnt forms;
For one we needed who might speak for us,
And well I liked the youth, the open lines
Which charactered his face, the fearless heart,
Which gave at once and won full confidence:
So that night at my feet Lincoya slept.

When I displayed whate'er might gratify,
Whate'er surprise, with most delight he viewed
Our arms, the iron helm, the pliant mail,
The buckler strong to save; and then he shook
The lance, and grasped the sword, and turned to me
With vehement words and gestures, every limb
Working with one strong passion; and he placed
The falchion in my hand, and gave the shield,
And pointed south and west, that I should go
To conquer and protect; anon he wept
Aloud, and clasped my knees, and falling, fain
He would have kissed my feet. Went we to shore?
Then would he labour restlessly to show

A better place lay onward; and in the sand,
To south and west he drew the line of coast,

And figured how a mighty river there

Ran to the sea. The land bent westward soon,

And thus confirmed we voyaged on to seek
The river inlet, following at the will

Sprung from the wave, 32 like flashing light,-took wing, Of our new friend : and we learnt after him, And twinkling with a silver glitterance,

Flew through the air and sunshine? yet were these
To sight less wondrous than the tribe who swam,
Following like fowlers with uplifted eye
Their falling quarry :-language cannot paint
Their splendid tints! 33 though in blue ocean seen,
Blue, darkly, deeply, beautifully blue,

In all its rich variety of shades.
Suffused with glowing gold.

Heaven too had there
Its wonders :-from a deep, black, heavy cloud,
What shall I say?—a shoot,—a trunk,—an arm
Came down ;-yea! like a demon's arm, it seized
The waters: Ocean smoked beneath its touch,
And rose like dust before the whirlwind's force.
But we sailed onward over tranquil seas,
Wafted by airs so exquisitely mild,
That even to breathe became an act of will,
And sense and pleasure! Not a cloud by day
With purple islanded the dark-blue deep :
By night the quiet billows heaved and glanced
Under the moon,-that heavenly moon! so bright,
That many a midnight have I paced the deck,
Forgetful of the hours of due repose;
Yea till the Sun in his full majesty
Went forth, like God beholding his own works.

Well pleased and proud to teach, what this was called,

What that, with no unprofitable toil.
Nor light the joy I felt at hearing first
The pleasant accents of my native tongue,
Albeit in broken words and tones uncouth,
Come from these foreign lips.

At length we came
Where the great river, amid shoals and banks
And islands, growth of its own gathering spoils,
Through many a branching channel, wide and full,
Rushed to the main. The gale was strong; and safe,
Amid the uproar of conflicting tides,

Our gallant vessels rode. A stream as broad,
As turbid, when it leaves the Land of Hills,
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.

So we sailed on
By shores now covered with impervious woods,
Now stretching wide and low, a reedy waste;
And now through vales where earth profusely poured
Her treasures, gathered from the first of days.
Sometimes a savage tribe would welcome us,
By wonder from their lethargy of life
Awakened; then again we voyaged on

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