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While, heap'd his master's feet around, Prostrate Warriors gnaw the ground. Where his glowing eye-balls turn, Thousand banners round him burn: Where he points his purple spear, Hasty, hasty Rout is there; Marking with indignant eye Fear to stop, and shame to fly. There Confusion, Terror's child, Conflict fierce, and Ruin wild, Agony, that pants for breath, Despair and honourable Death.

THE DEATH OF HOEL.

AN ODE.

FROM THE WELSH.

[This Ode is extracted from the Gododin.

See Mr. Evans's Specimens,fi. 94.]

HAD I but the torrent's might,

With headlong rage and wild affright

Upon DeYra's squadrons hurl'd

To rush, and sweep them from the world!

Too, too secure in youthful pride,
By them, my friend, my Hoel, died.
Great Cian's son: of Madoc old
He ask'd no heaps of hoarded gold;
Alone in Nature's wealth array'd,
He ask'd and had the lovely Maid.

To Cattraeth's vale in glitt'ring row
Twice two hundred Warriors go:
Every Warrior's manly neck
Chains of regal honour deck,
Wreath'd in many a golden link:
From the golden cup they drink

Nectar, that the bees produce,
Or the grape's ecstatic juice.
• Flush'd with mirth and hope they burn:
But none from Cattraeth's vale return,
Save Aeron brave, and Conan strong,
(Bursting thro' the bloody throng)
And I, the meanest of them all,
That live to weep and sing their fall.

A

MISCELLANIES.

A LONG STORY. •

[Mr. Gray's Elegy in the Country Church-Yard, before it appeared in print, was handed about in manuscript; and amongst other eminent personages who saw and admired it, was the Lady Cobham, who resided at the Mansion-House at Stoke-Pogeis. The performance induced her to wish for the author's acquaintance; and Lady Schaub and Miss Speed, then at her house, undertook to effect it. These two ladies waited upon the author at his aunt's solitary mansion, where he at that time resided; and not finding him at home, they left their names. Mr. Gray, surprised at such a compliment, returned the visit. And as the beginning of this acquaintance wore a little of the face of romance, he soon after gave a fanciful and pleasant account of it in the following copy of verses, which he entitled A Long Story J]

IN Britain's isle, no matter where,
An ancient pile of building stands: [35]

[35] The mansion-house at Stoke-Pogeis, then in the possession of Viscountess Cobham. The house formerly belonged to the Earls of Huntingdon and the family of Hatton. 12 *

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