[183] “My loving heart sinks with grief without thy support, O thou that hast the whiteness of the curling waves!... I know that this pain will avail me nothing towards obtaining thy love, O thou whose countenance is bright as the flowers of the hawthorn!”—Howel’s Ode to Myfanwy.
THE MOUNTAIN FIRES.
[“The custom retained in Wales of lighting fires (Coelcerthi) on November eve, is said to be a traditional memorial of the massacre of the British chiefs by Hengist, on Salisbury plain. The practice is, however, of older date, and had reference originally to the Alban Elved, or new-year.”—Cambro-Briton.
When these fires are kindled on the mountains, and seen through the darkness of a stormy night, casting a red and fitful glare over heath and rock, their effect is strikingly picturesque.]
Light the hills! till heaven is glowing
As with some red meteor’s rays!
Winds of night, though rudely blowing,
Shall but fan the beacon-blaze.
Light the hills! till flames are streaming
From Yr Wyddfa’s sovereign steep,[184]