HOW miserable it is to see
Tumult, commotion,
Wounds and confusion,
The Brithwyr in motion,
And a cruel fate.
With the impulse of destiny,
And for heaven's sake
Declare the discontinuance of the disaster!
It is not well that a son should be born:
10 His youthful destiny
Will necessarily be unbelief
And general privation:--
The Lloegrians declare it.
Alas! for the utter confusion
Until the end of the seventh
From the hard Calends.
True it is, deliverance will come
By means of the wished-for man.
May he throw open the White Mount,
20 And into Gwynedd make his entry!
The forces of the Cymry p. 291
Will be of one course with the lightning:
The signal of their deliverance
Will be a true relief, to the bosom:
The guarantee being Reged,
Whose share will be glorious.
Glorious will be our portion.
To me has been given sway,
I have become a predicting bard:
30 Camlan will be heard again
Scenes of groaning will again be seen,
And dismal lamentations,
And mischievous contention,
And the child will grow
Strong in battle, even when small.
People will see battles,
And the increase of fortresses;
Many a banner will be shattered:
A red banner I know there is,
40 It will be death to vanquish it
A signal of their coming,--
The heroic warriors,
Who will defend their fame.
Active their swords before thee,
Before me their virtues.
They shall receive their portion before death.
The day of causing blood-streams,
The day of assailing walls,
Will come for certain,
50 And fleets on the water,
Neither tax nor tribute
Nor service will succeed,
Nor the entreaties of the weak will avail,
Under the sway of the rulers.
May hens be relics p. 292
From Mona to Mynneu!
Believe in the living God for benefits,
Who will dispense us free blessings.
By imploring saints,
60 And the thorough comprehension of books,
May we obtain, an Thursday, a, portion
In the blissful region, the splendid place of rest!