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Who th* avenger of his guilt,
By whom shall Hoder's blood be spilt.
Pr. In the caverns of the west,
O. Yet awhile my call obey,
Pr. Ha! no traveller art thou,
O. No boding maid of skill divine
Pr. Hie thee hence, and boast at home,
That never shall inquirer come
To break my iron sleep again;
Till *Lok has burst his tenfold chain.
• Lok is the evil Beingr, who continues in chains till the Twilight of the Gods approaches, when he stiall bres.k his bonds; the human race, the stars, and sun shall disappear; the earth sink in the sea*, and Ore consume the skies: even Odin himself and his kindred-deitiai •hall perish. For a farther explanation of this mvihology, see ' in
Never, till substantial Night
X. THE TRIUMPHS OF OWEN.*
From the Welsh.
Big with hosts of mighty name,
traduction a l'Histoire de Dannemare, par Mons. Mallet,' 1755, quarto; or rather a translation of it, published in 1770, and entitled, 'Northern Antiquities,' in which some mistakes in the original are judiciously corrected.
* From Mr. Evans's Specimens of the Welsh Poetry; London, 1764, quarto. Owen succeeded his father Griffin in the principality of North Wales, A. D. mo. This batlle was fought near forty years afterward.
t North Wales. J Denmark.
$ The red dragon is the device of Cadwallader, which all hit d«» soendants bore on their banners.
In glittering arms and glory drest,
XI. THE DEATH OF HOEL.
Had I but the torrent's might,
With headlong rage and wild affright
Upon Deira's squadrons hurl'd,
To rush, and sweep them from the world t
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 \
• Of Aneurini, stvled the Monarch of the Bards. He flourished •bout the time of Taliessin, A. U. 570. This Ode it extracted froa the Godrdiu. (See Mr. Evans's Specimens, p. 71. and 73.)
Alone in Nature's wealth array'd,
SONNET* ON THE DEATH OF MR. RICHARD WEST
IN vain to me the smiling Mornings shine,
And redd'ning Phoebus lifts his golden fire: The birds in vain their amorous descant join,
Or cheerful fields resume their green attire: These ears, alas! for other notes repine,
A different object do these eyes require; My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine,
And in my breast the imperfect joys expire. Yet Morning smiles the busy race to cheer,
And new-born pleasure bring9 to happier men; The fields to all their wonted tribute bear;
To warm their little loves the birds complain: I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear,
And weep the more, because I weep in vain.
• See Memoirs, Sect. 3. 1
Lo! where the silent Marble weeps,
A friend, a wife, a mother sleeps:
A heart, within whose sacred cell
The peaceful Virtues loved to dwell.
Affection warm, and faith sincere,
And soft humanity were there.
In agony, in death r sign'd,
She felt the wound she left behind.
Her infant image, here below,
Sits smiling on a father's woe:
Whom what awaits, while yet he strays
Along the lonely vale of days?
A pang, to secret sorrow dear;
A sigh; an unavailing tear;
Till Time shall ev'ry grief remove,
With Life, with Memory, and with Love.
HERE, foremost in the dangerous paths of fame,
His mind each muse, each grace adorn'd his frame, Nor Envy dared to viow him with a frown.
* This lady, the wife of Dr. Clarke, physician at Epsom, died April 27, 1757; and is buried in the church or beckenham,. Kent.
+ This epitaph was written at the request of Mr. Frederick Montague, who intended to have inscribed if on a monument at Bellisle, at the siege of which this accomplished youth was killed, 1«761 ; btrt from some difficulty attending the erection of it, the detign was not executed.