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Nor wash his visage in the stream,
Yet awhile my call obey;
What Virgins these, in speechless woe,
And snowy veils, that float in air?
Tell me whence their sorrows rose :
Ha! no Traveller art thou, King of Men, I know thee now; Mightiest of a mighty line
No boding Maid of skill divine Art thou, nor Prophetess of good; But mother of the giant-brood!
Hie thee hence, and boast at home,
That never shall Enquirer come
Till Lok has burst his tenfold chain;
*Lok is the Evil Being, who continues in chains till the Twilight of the Gods approaches; when he shall break his bonds; the
Never, till substantial Night
Has reassum'd her ancient right;
THE TRIUMPHS OF OWEN.“
FROM THE WELCH
OWEN's praise demands my song,
Liberal hand, and open heart.
Big with hosts of mighty name,
human race, the stars, and sun, shail disappear; the earth sink in the seus, and fire consume the skies: even Odin himself, and his kindred deities, shall perish. For a further explanation of this mythology, see 'Introduction à l'Histoire de Dannemare, par Mons. Mallet,' 788, quarto; or rather a translation of it published in 1770, and entitled Northern Antiquities ;' in which some mistakes in the original ore judiciously corrected,
• From Mr. Evans's Specimens of the Welch Poetry; London, 1764, quarto. Owen succeeded his father Griffin in the princi pality of North Wales, A. D. 1120. This battle was fought near forty years afterwards.
↑ North Wales.
On her shadow long and gay
Catch the winds and join the war:
Dauntless on his native sands
There the thundering strokes begin,
Check'd by the torrent-tide of blood,
While, heap'd his master's feet around,
†The red Dragon is the device of Cadwallader, which all his descendants bore on their banners.
THE DEATH OF HOEL.*
HAD I but the torrent's might,
With headlong rage and wild affright
To rush and sweep them from the world!
Too, too secure in youthful pride,
To Cattraeth's vale in glittering row
Flush'd with mirth and hope they burn:
That live to weep and sing their fall.
*From the Welch of Aneurim, styled the Monarch of the Bards. He flourished about the time of Talliessin, A. D. 570. This Ode is extracted from the Gododin.
See Mr. Evans's Specimens, p. 71 and 73.
A LONG STORY.*
IN Britain's isle, no matter where,
To raise the ceilings fretted height,
And passages, that lead to nothing.
Full oft within the spacious walls,
When he had fifty winters o'er him,
• Mr. Gray's Elegy in a 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 and a billet. 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?
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.
Sir Christopher Hatton, promoted by Queen Elizabeth for his graceful person and fine dancing.-Brawls were a sort of figure-dance, then in vogue.