Yet oft before his infant eyes would run With orient hues, unborrow'd of the Sun : Beneath the Good how far- but far above the Great. I 20 X. ODE ON THE PLEASURE ARISING FROM VICISSITUDE. Now the golden Morn aloft Waves her dew-bespangled wing, With vermeil-cheek and whisper soft Till April starts, and calls around The sleeping fragrance from the ground; New-born flocks, in rustic dance, Frisking ply their feeble feet; The Birds his presence greet; But chief, the Sky-lark warbles high 5 ΤΟ While Hope prolongs our happier hour, Still, where rosy Pleasure leads, Approaching Comfort view; See the Wretch, that long has tost 35 40 45 The meanest flowret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale, 50 The common Sun, the air, the skies, To him are opening Paradise. The following Ode is founded on a Tradition current in Wales, that EDWARD THE FIRST, when he compleated the conquest of that country, ordered all the Bards, that fell into his hands, to be put to death. I. I. 'Ruin seize thee, ruthless King! 'Confusion on thy banners wait, 'Tho' fann'd by Conquest's crimson wing 'Nor even thy virtues, Tyrant, shall avail 'From Cambria's curse, from Cambria's tears !' Such were the sounds, that o'er the crested3 pride Of the first Edward scatter'd wild dismay, 1 Mocking the air with colours idly spread. Shakespear's King John. 2 The Hauberk was a texture of steel ringlets, or rings interwoven, forming a coat of mail, that sate close to the body, and adapted itself to every motion. 8 The crested adder's pride. 5 ΙΟ Dryden's Indian Queen. 1 As down the steep of Snowdon's 1 shaggy side 3 To arms! cried Mortimer, and couch'd his quiv'ring lance. I. 2. On a rock, whose haughty brow With haggard eyes the Poet stood; 4 (Loose his beard, and hoary hair * Stream'd, like a meteor, to the troubled air) 5 1 Snowdon was a name given by the Saxons to that mountainous tract, which the Welch themselves call Craigian-eryri: it included all the highlands of Caernarvonshire and Merionethshire, as far east as the river Conway. R. Hygden speaking of the castle of Conway built by King Edward the first, says, "Ad ortum amnis Conway ad clivum montis Erery"; and Matthew of Westminster, (ad ann. 1283), "Apud Aberconway ad pedes montis Snowdoniæ fecit erigi castrum forte." 2 Gilbert de Clare, surnamed the Red, Earl of Gloucester and Hertford, son-in-law to King Edward. 3 Edmond de Mortimer, Lord of Wigmore. They both were Lords-Marchers, whose lands lay on the borders of Wales, and probably accompanied the king in this expedition. 4 The image was taken from a well-known picture of Raphaël, representing the Supreme Being in the vision of Ezekiel : there are two of these paintings (both believed original), one at Florence, the other at Paris. 5 Shone, like a meteor, streaming to the wind. Milton's Paradise Lost. 15 20 'Hark, how each giant-oak, and desert cave, 'Sighs to the torrent's aweful voice beneath! 'O'er thee, oh King! their hundred arms they wave, 'Revenge on thee in hoarser murmurs breath; 'Vocal no more, since Cambria's fatal day, 'To high-born Hoel's harp, or soft Llewellyn's lay. I. 3. 'Cold is Cadwallo's tongue, 'That hush'd the stormy main : 'Brave Urien sleeps upon his craggy bed: 6 Mountains, ye mourn in vain 'Modred, whose magic song 'Made huge Plinlimmon bow his cloud-top'd head. 'On dreary Arvon's shore they lie,1 'Smear'd with gore, and ghastly pale : 'Far, far aloof th' affrighted ravens sail; 3 'The famish'd Eagle 2 screams, and passes by. 1 The shores of Caernarvonshire opposite to the isle of Anglesey. 2 Cambden and others observe, that eagles used annually to build their aerie among the rocks of Snowdon, which from thence (as some think) were named by the Welch Craigian-eryri, or the crags of the eagles. At this day (I am told) the highest point of Snowdon is called the eagle's nest. That bird is certainly no stranger to this island, as the Scots, and the people of Cumberland, Westmoreland, etc. can testify: it even has built its nest in the Peak of Derbyshire. (See Willoughby's Ornithol. published by Ray.) 3 As dear to me as are the ruddy drops, That visit my sad heart. Shakesp. Jul. Cæsar. |