time to make my confession. Alas! my labour in celebrating thy praises, O thou that shinest like the fine spider’s webs on the grass in a summer’s day, is vain. It would be a hard task for any man to guess how great my pain is. It is so afflicting, thou bright luminary of maids, that my colour is gone. I know that this pain will avail me nothing towards obtaining thy love, O thou whose countenance is as bright as the flowers of the haw-thorn. O how well didst thou succeed in making me to languish, and despair. For heaven’s sake, pity my distressed condition, and soften the penance of thy Bard. I am a Bard, who, though wounded by thee, sing thy praises in well sounding verse, thou gentle maid of slender shape, who hinderest me to sleep by thy charms. I bring thy praises, bright maid, to thy neat palace at Dinbrain; [17] many are the songs that I rehearse to celebrate thy beautiful form.
AN ODE
Of David Benvras, to Llewelyn the Great, Prince of Wales, a.d. 1240.
He who created the glorious sun, and that cold pale luminary the moon, grant that I attain the heights of poetry, and be inspired with the genius of Myrddin; [18a] that I may extol the praise of heroes, like Aneurin, [18b] in the day he sung his celebrated Gododin; that I may set forth the happiness of the inhabitants of Venedotia, the noble and prosperous prince of Gwynedd, the stay and prop of his fair and pleasant country. He is manly and heroic in the battle, his fame overspreadeth the country about the mountain of Breiddin. [18c] Since God created the first man, there never was his equal in the front of battle. Llewelyn the generous, of the race of princes, has struck terror and astonishment in the heart of kings. When he strove for superiority with Loegria’s king, when he was wasting the country of Erbin, [18d] his troops were valiant and numerous. Great was the confusion when the shout was given, his sword was bathed in blood; proud were his nobles to see his army; when they heard the clashing of swords, then was felt the agony of wounds [18e] - - - - -
Many were the gashes in the conflict of war. Great was the confusion of the Saxons about the ditch of Knocking. [19a] The sword was broke in the hand of the warrior. Heads were covered with wounds, and the flood of human gore gushed in streams down the knees.
Llewelyn’s empire is wide extended, he is renowned as far as Porth Ysgewin. [19b] Constantine was not his equal in undergoing hardships. Had I arrived to the height of prophecy, and the great gift of ancient poesy, I could not relate his prowess in action; no, Taliesin [19c] himself was unequal to the task. Before he finishes his course in this world, after he has lived a long life on earth, ere he goes to the deep and bone-bestrewed grave, ere the green herb grows over his tomb, may He that turned the water into wine, grant that he may have the Almighty’s protection, and that for every sin, with which he hath been stained, he may receive remission. May Llewelyn, the noble and generous, never be confounded or ashamed when he arrives at that period; and may he be under the protection of the saints.
A POEM
To Llewelyn the Great, composed by Einion the son of Gwgan, about 1244.
I invoke the assistance of the God of Heaven, Christ our Saviour, whom to neglect is impious. That gift is true which descendeth from above. The gifts that are given me are immortal, to discern, according to the great apostle, what is right and decent; and, among other grand subjects, to celebrate my prince, who avoids not the battle nor its danger; Llewelyn the generous, the maintainer of Bards. He is the dispenser of happiness to his subjects, his noble deeds cannot be sufficiently extolled. His spear flashes in a hand accustomed to martial deeds. It kills and puts its enemies to flight by the palace of Rheidiol. [20a] I have seen, and it was my heart’s delight, the guards of Lleision [20b] about its grand buildings; numberless troops of warriors mounted on white steeds. They encompassed our eagle: Llewelyn the magnanimous hero, whose armour glistened; the maintainer of his rights. He defended the borders of Powys, a country renowned for its bravery; he defended its steep passes, and supported the privileges of its prince. Obstinate was his resistance to the treacherous English. In Rhuddlan he was like the ruddy fire flaming with destructive light. There have I seen Llewelyn the brave gaining immortal glory. I have seen him gallantly ploughing the waves of Deva, when the tide was at its height. I have seen
him furious in the conflict of Chester, where he doubly repaid his enemies the injuries he suffered from them. It is but just that he should enjoy the praise due to his valour. I will extol thee, and the task is delightful. Thou art like the eagle amongst the nobles of Britain. Thy form is majestic and terrible, when thou pursuest thy foes. When thou invadest thy enemies, where Owain thy predecessor invaded them in former times; full proud was thy heart in dividing the spoils, it happened as in the battles of Kulwydd and Llwyvein. [21a] Thy beautiful steeds were fatigued with the labour of the day, where the troops wallowed in gore, and were thrown in confusion. The bow was full bent before the mangled corse, the spear aimed at the breast in the country of Eurgain. [21b] The army at Offa’s Dike panted for glory, the troops of Venedotia, and the men of London, were as the alternate motion of the waves on the sea-shore, where the sea-mew screams; great was our happiness to put the Normans to fear and consternation. Llewelyn the terrible with his brave warriors effected it; the prince of glorious and happy Mona. He is its ornament and distinguished chief.