Part 14 (1/2)

One morning in May, when soft breezes were blowing O'er Dee's pleasant tide with a ripple and swell, A shepherdess tended her flock that was feeding Upon the green meadows that lay in the dell, Her blue eye she raised, and she looked all around her, As if she'd fain see some one far on the lea, And spite of its brightness, I saw the salt tear For one who was far from the banks of the Dee.

The maiden I thought was preparing to solace Her stay with a song amid the fair scene, Nor long was I left in suspense of her object, Before she broke forth with a melody clean; The tears she would wipe away with her napkin, While often a sigh would escape from her breast, And as she sent forth the notes of her mourning, I could find that to love the lay was address'd:

”Four summers have pa.s.s'd since I lost my sweet William, And from this fair valley he mournful did go; Four autumns have shower'd their leaves on the meadows Since he on these eyelids a smile did bestow; Four winters have sped with their snowflakes and tempest Since he by my side did sing a light glee; But many more springs will be sown for the harvest Ere William revisit the banks of the Dee.”

GWILYM GLYN AND RUTH OF DYFFRYN.

In the depth of yonder valley, Where the fields are bright and sunny, Ruth was nurtured fair and slender Neath a mother's eye so tender.

Listening to the thrush's carols.

Was her pleasure in her gambols, And ere she grew up a maiden Gwilym's voice was sweet in Dyffryn.

Together did they play in childhood, Together ramble in the greenwood, Together dance upon the meadow, Together pluck the primrose yellow.

Both grew up in youthful beauty On the lap of peace and plenty, And before they could discover Love had linked its silent fetter.

Ruth had riches--not so Gwilym, Her stern sire grew cold unto him, And at length forbade him coming Any more to visit Dyffryn.

Gwilym thence would roam the wild-wood, Where he wander'd in his childhood, And would shun his home and hamlet, Pensive sitting in the thicket.

Ruth would, weeping, walk the garden, And survey the blank horizon For a pa.s.sing glimpse of Gwilym-- But all vain her tears and wailing.

Gwilym said, ”I'll cross the ocean, And abide among the heathen, In the hope of getting riches, Which alone the father pleases.”

But, before he left his country, Once, by stealth, he met the lady, And beneath the beech's shadow Vow'd undying love in sorrow.

Much the weeping--sad the sighing, When they parted in the gloaming, Gwilym for a distant region, Ruth behind in desolation.

Time flew fast, and many a wooer Came to Ruth an ardent lover; But in vain they sought the maiden, For she held her troth unbroken.

Owain Wynn had wealth in plenty, Earnest was his deep entreaty, And tho' favour'd by the father, Yet all vain was his endeavour.

Years now pa.s.s'd since Ruth saw Gwilym, But her dreams were always of him, And tho' morning undeceived her, Nightly did she see him near.

One fair evening Ruth was sitting In the spot of their last parting, When she thought she saw her Gwilym Cross the meadows green of Dyffryn.

Was it fact or apparition?

Slow she mov'd to test the vision, Who was there but her own true love Come to claim her in the green grove.

Gwilym now possessed abundance, Gold and pearls displayed their radiance, Soon the father gave him welcome To his house and daughter handsome.

Quick the wedding-day was settled, Ruth to Gwilym then was married, Long they lived in bliss and plenty, Pride and envy of the valley.

THE LORD OF CLAS.

The Lord of Clas to his hunting is gone, Over plain and sedgy moor; The glare of his bridle bit has shone On the heights of wild Benmore.

Why does he stay away from hound?