LVII.
No hall was ever made so faultless;
Nor was there a lion so generous, a majestic lion on the path, so kind [158a]
As Cynon of the gentle breast, the most comely lord.
The fame [158b] of the city extends to the remotest parts;
It was the staying [158c] shelter of the army, the benefit of flowing melody. [158d]
Of those whom I have seen, or shall hereafter see
On earth, engaged in arms, the battle cry, and war, [159a] the most heroic was he,
Who slew the mounted ravagers with the keenest blade;
Like rushes did they fall before his hand.
O son of Clydno, [159b] of lasting [159c] fame! I will sing to thee
A song of praise, without beginning, [159d] without end.