Then I replied, with language firm,
To the black visaged silent worm.
BARD.
To terrify the beauty now—
It was a most unworthy turn,
Spite of thy haughty port—thy vow—
Thy awful words—and accents stern,
Still will the gallant Davyth pay
His court to maids—ten in one day!
He begins another poem, addressed to a Grey brother, (who had tried to persuade Morvyth to become a nun,) with the following ironical allusions to the supposed merit of gifts bestowed on the religious orders:—
Long life—fair journeys—offerings rare,
Fall to the chatt’ring raven’s share!
The figure like a shadow—those
Deserve not peace who are his foes!
From Rome he comes with naked feet,
And tresses like a thorny nest!
In petticoat of network dressed
He walks the world—oh, pastor meet,
A parish with wise words to greet!
Of the latter years of our bard we have only a general account, which states that they were consumed in his native parish of Llanbadarn, where also had been his paternal home. He appears to have survived his relations, his patrons, and his fair Morvyth. His uncle and kind protector, Llewelyn ab Gwilym, he had lost early in life by the hand of an assassin, and the bard bewails this event in a pathetic elegy on the occasion[1]. Still, so long as
- ↑ No. 232.
