The gallant chidings rise,
All Snowdon’s craggy chaos yells
With many mingled cries.
That day Llewellyn little loved
The chase of hart or hare;
And small and scant the booty proved,
For Gelert was not there.
Unpleased, Llewellyn homeward hied,
When, near the portal-seat,
His truant Gelert he espied,