The hay that so short a time ago was long, lush grass, with fragrant meadow-sweet and gold-eyed marguerites growing amongst it in the green meadow-land by the river, is now dry hay—fragrant still, though dead, and hidden from the sun’s warm ray... Read more of Arachne at Urban Myths.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Wales Poetry

A Bridal Song
Wilt thou not waken, bride of May, While the flowers are...

An Ode On The Death Of Hoel
of the sixth century. He was himself a soldier, and d...

From The Hymns Of The Rev William Williams, Pantycelyn
he inherited from his ancestors, was born in the parish of...

Tribanau
Serjeant Parry, the eminent barrister) says: "The followin...

My Native Cot
The white cot where I spent my youth Is on yon lofty mo...

The Battle Of Gwenystrad
contemporary of Aneurin in the sixth century. He appe...

The Flowers Of Spring
beautiful stanzas, from which the following translation ...

The Holly Grove
Sweet holly grove, that soarest A woodland fort, an armed ...

An Ode To The Thunder
his bardic name of Dafydd Ionawr, was born in the year 1...

Concerning The Divine Providence
...

Sad Died The Maiden
Sad died the Maiden! and heaven only knew The anguish s...

Old Morgan And His Wife
Hus.--Jane, tell me have you fed the pigs, Their cry is ...

The World And The Sea: A Comparison
Like the world and its dread changes Is the ocean when it ...

To The Nightingale
river of that name was born at Mold, in Flintshire, in the...

The Grove Of Broom
The girl of nobler loveliness Than countess decked in go...

The Withered Leaf
Dry the leaf above the stubble, Soon 'twill fall into ...

The Dawn
Streaking the mantle of deep night The rays of light ...

An Address To The Summer
of Llanbadarn Fawr, Cardiganshire, and was born about ...

Dafydd Ap Gwilym To The White Gull
Bird that dwellest in the spray, Far from mountain woods a...

The Sick Man's Dream
Dans le solitaire bourgade, Revant a ses maux triste...



The Battle Of Gwenystrad






Category: The Patriotic.

contemporary of Aneurin in the sixth century. He appears to have been a
native of Cardiganshire, for we find him at an early age living at the
court of Gwyddno, a petty king of Cantre y Gwaelod, who appointed him his
chief bard and tutor to his son Elphin. He was afterwards attached to
the court of Urien Rheged, a Welsh prince, king of Cambria and of
Scotland as far as the river Clyde, who fought and conquered in the great
battle of Gwenystrad, and is celebrated by the bard in the following
song. Taliesin composed many poems, but seventy seven of them only have
been preserved. The subjects of his poetry were for the most part
religion and history, but a few of his poems were of a martial
character.]

If warlike chiefs with dawning day
At Cattraeth met in dread array,
The song records their splendid name;
But who shall sing of Urien's fame?
His patriot virtues far excel
Whate'er the boldest bard can tell:
His dreadful arm and dauntless brow
Spoil and dismay the haughty foe.

Pillar of Britain's regal line!
'Tis his in glorious war to shine;
Despair and death attend his course,
Brave leader of the Christian force!

See Prydyn's men, a valiant train,
Rush along Gwenystrad's plain!
Bright their spears for war addrest,
Raging vengeance fires their breast;
Shouts like ocean's roar arise,
Tear the air, and pierce the skies.
Here they urge their tempest force!
Nor camp nor forest turns their course:
Their breath the shrieking peasants yield
O'er all the desolated field.

But lo, the daring hosts engage!
Dauntless hearts and flaming rage;
And, ere the direful morn is o'er,
Mangled limbs and reeking gore,
And crimson torrents whelm the ground,
Wild destruction stalking round;
Fainting warriors gasp for breath,
Or struggle in the toils of death.

Where the embattled fortress rose,
(Gwenystrad's bulwark from the foes,)
Fierce conflicting heroes meet--
Groans the earth beneath their feet.

I mark, amidst the rolling flood,
Where hardy warriors stain'd with blood
Drop their blunt arms, and join the dead,
Grey billows curling o'er their head:
Mangled with wounds, and vainly brave,
At once they sink beneath the wave.

Lull'd to everlasting rest,
With folded arms and gory breast--
Cold in death, and ghastly pale,
Chieftains press the reeky vale,
Who late, amidst their kindred throng,
Prepar'd the feast, and join'd the song;
Or like the sudden tempest rose,
And hurl'd destruction on the foes.

Warriors I saw who led the fray,
Stern desolation strew'd their way;
Aloft the glitt'ring blade they bore,
Their garments hung with clotted gore.
The furious thrust, the clanging shield,
Confound the long-disputed field.

But when Rheged's chief pursues,
His way through iron ranks he hews;
Hills pil'd on hills, the strangers bleed:
Amaz'd I view his daring deed!
Destruction frowning on his brow,
Close he urg'd the panting foe,
'Till hemm'd around, they met the shock,
Before Galysten's hoary rock.
Death and torment strew'd his path;
His dreadful blade obey'd his wrath:
Beneath their shields the strangers lay,
Shrinking from the fatal day.

Thus in victorious armour bright,
Thou brave Euronwy, pant for fight:
With such examples in thine eyes,
Haste to grasp the hero's prize.

And till old age has left me dumb--
Till death has call'd me to the tomb--
May cheerful joys ne'er crown my days,
Unless I sing of Urien's praise!





Next: Taliesin's Prophecy
Previous: Roderic's Lament




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