Goreu cyfgod, cyfgod tir, A goreu gair yw gair o wir. ANCIENT BRITISH PROVERBS, &c. Chwarae ac na friw, cellwair ac na chywilyddia. Cennad bwyr, drug ei neges. Ni bú Arthur, ond tra fû. Llwyd ac ynfyd ni ddigymmydd. Da yw cóf Máb. Gnawd yn ôl dryghin, hindda. Gwell goddeu na gofal. Earth is the best shelter, And truth the best buckler. Play, but hurt not; jeft, but fhame not. Man's wrong, is remembered long. Better patient, than paffionate. Haws gweuthur bebog o farcut, no marchog o daiog. Easier to make a falcon of a kite, Hir gnif beb efgor lludded. Lawer gwir drug ei ddywedyd. Gwell y wialen a blygo, no'r hon a dorro. Gwelly tynn merch nå rháff. Ni wich Ci er ei daro ag asgwrn. Nid aduna Duw a wnaeth. Nid anghof Brodyrdde. Nid bwyd rhyfedd i ddiriaid. Nid neges beb farch. Nid dewr, ond Gŵr. Nid gluth, ond mulfran. Nid llyfeuwraig ond gafr. Nid rhywiog ond March. Nid ferchog ond Eos. Nid trais ond tân. Nid rhwystr ond dŵr. Nid ysgafn ond wybr. Nid trwm ond daiar. Nid anfeidrol, ond dim. Nid dim, ond Duw. Than of a knave a knight. Long grief, yields no relief. Many a truth is better untold. Better the rod that bends, than breaks. } } A rope draws strong, but a maid draws ftronger. The dog fqueaks not when ftruck with a bone. What God made, he never marrs. Fields got, are feldom forgot. Strange dishes antic, make men frantic. No speed, without a steed. No valour equal to man's. No glutton equal to the cormorant. No herbalift equal to the goat. Nothing fo tractable and ftately as the fteed. No melody fo pleasant as the nightingale's, No obftruction equal to that of water. No weight equal to earth. No infinity equal to nothing. 59 Conftantine the Great, the firft Chriftian Emperor of Britain, who flourished about A. D. 320, ufed to fay, that age appeared beft in four things: old wood to burn; old wine to drink; old friends to truft; and old authors to read, ODE, in Praife of ROBERT AB MEREDITH, by Rys GôсH of Eryri, a Snowdonian Bard; who flourished about A. D. 1400: (tranflated from the Welsh; and verfified by the Rev. Rd. Williams.) Long had Gruffudd from afar, Heard the horrid din of war; His bloody fpear, and glitt'ring fword, age, and with misfortunes, gray. And trembled not. From him fhall rife An offspring, lovely, brave, and wife, Cambria's boast, and Conan's pride, To Royalty itself allied. Tho' Tho' fell detraction's breath impure His fhining merit wou'd obfcure; Caution, avaunt! inglorious fear, Hence! avaunt! and come not near! Truth, guide my honeft pen to praise The hero in deferved lays. This, this is he, great Conan's 1.it, ON THE ANCIENT BRITONS. Stretch'd out in length, Where Nature put forth all her ftrength, Had, from the time they firft drew breath, They grafp'd the fword, they fhook the spear; Their wives, their mothers all around, What raptures did the bofom fire When, pleasure height'ning all her charms, And begg'd, whilft Love and Glory fire, This Cromlech (Druidical Altar; or a Sepulchral Monument,) ftands near Lligwy, in the Parish of Penrhos,in Anglefey; and is now erroneously called by the common people, Coeten Arthur, or King Arthur's Quoit; as is also that monument near Aylesford, in Kent, by the name of Kits-Coity; from Catteyrn, or Cattigern, (a brother of King Vortimer,) the British Chieftain of Kent, who fell in a battle with the Saxons, about the year 455; in which conflict Horfa was flain, and a fimilar memorial was erected over his grave at Horfied; whence, that place derived its name, 8 Printed by A. Strahan, Printers Street, London. |