Part 13 (1/2)

Thy son is gone He rests a the dead

The swarm, that in thy noontide bea hs the Morn, and soft the Zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realoes; Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the hel Whirlwind's sway, That, hush'd in gri prey

II 3

”Fill high the sparkling bowl, The rich repast prepare; Reft of a crown, he yet al chair Fell Thirst and Fauest

Heard ye the din of battle bray, Lance to lance, and horse to horse?

Long years of havoc urge their destin'd course, And through the kindred squadronsshaht murder fed, Revere his consort's faith, his father's fame, And spare the meek usurper's holy head

Above, below, the rose of snoin'd with her blushi+ng foe, we spread: The bristled boar in infant-gore Wallows beneath the thorny shade

Now, brothers, bending o'er the accursed looeance deep, and ratify his doom

III 1

”Edward, lo! to sudden fate (Weave we the woof The thread is spun) Half of thy heart we consecrate

(The web is wove The work is done) Stay, O stay! nor thus forlorn Leave ht track, that fires the western skies, They melt, they vanish froht Descending slow their glittering skirts unroll?

Visions of glory, spare es, crowd not on -lost Arthur ail

All hail, ye genuine kings, Britannia's issue, hail!

III 2

”Girt with orgeous dames, and statesmen old In bearded majesty, appear

In the midst a form divine!

Her eye proclai face, Attes symphonious tremble in the air, What strains of vocal transport round her play

Hear froreat Taliessin, hear They breathe a soul to ani, as she sings, Waves in the eye of heaven her ain Fierce War, and faithful Love, And Truth severe, by fairy Fiction drest

In buskin'dPain, With Horror, tyrant of the throbbing breast

A voice, as of the cherub-choir, Gales fros lessen onfuturity expire

Fond iuine cloud, Rais'd by thy breath, has quench'd the orb of day?

To-olden flood, And warh for n

Be thine despair, and sceptred care; To triu froed to endless night

FOOTNOTES:

[D] This ode is founded on a tradition current in Wales, that Edward the First, when he completed the conquest of that country, ordered all the Bards that fell into his hands to be put to death--GRAY