XVII.
And now the early leader,
The sun, is about to ascend,
Sovereign of the revolving [105b] lights, [105c]
In the heaven of Britain’s isle. [105d]
Direful was the flight before the shaking
Of the shield of the pursuing victor; [105e]
Bright [105f] was the horn
In the hall of Eiddin; [105g]
With pomp was he bidden [105h]
To the feast of intoxicating mead;
He drank the beverage of wine,
At the meeting of reapers; [106a]
He drank transparent wine,
With a battle-daring purpose. [106b]
The reapers sang of war,
War with the shining wing; [106c]
The minstrels sang of war,
Of harnessed [106d] war,
Of winged war.
No shield was unexpanded [107a]
In the conflict of spears;
Of equal age they fell [107b]
In the struggle of battle.
Unshaken in the tumult,
Without dishonour [107c] did he retaliate on the foe;
Buried [107d] was whoever he willed,
Ere the grave of the gigantic [107e] Gwrveling
Itself became a green sward.