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COLOFN YR HYNAFIAETHYDD.

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COLOFN YR HYNAFIAETHYDD. BUGEILGERDD EDWARD RHISIART. CYFIEITHIAD I'R SAESNEG. (Allan o hen lawysgrif yn yr Amgueddfa Brydeinig.) A Pastoral by way of dialogue between Griffith and Meirick translated from the original in the British language. The Argument. Meirick, ruminating under a hedge in tears Griffith comes up to him, and asks the reason which, after some circumlocution, not inconsistent it is imagined with the character of a shepherd, he finds to be the death of a very sincere and affectionate friend, one Gwenllian. Upon this he endeavours to comfort him by such urguments as are generally made use of upon those melancholy occasions, which, making little or no impression, he tries again to raise his old friend's spirits by such motives as he thinks most suitable to his taste; but to no purpose. Meirick, like Jacob, refuses to be comforted yet, after an exchange of presents, and a kind invitation, seems inclinable to accept of it, and accordingly goes home with Griffith. Here ends the Pastoral, the first of the kind in the British language. 1 GRIFF Who is the forlorn youth whom thus I see Wailing beneath the covert of a tree With eyes bedew'd with tears, in mournful weed ? Rehearse the cause that makes thy heart to bleed. 2 MEIR: Thou seest thy friend worn out with care and grief; This bleeding heart no more can find relief. Heaven save my better part: all joys are fled, My prospects vanish'd, and my hopes are dead. 3 GRIFF: Have prowling wolves devoured thy fleecy care ? Or dost thou suffer from some cruel fair ? On Berwyn hills thy ewes are safe and sound And every head may easily be found. 4 MEIR To chase a shadow, and this world to gain, One day's reverse will show the pursuit vain. My sheep I own are safe, no loss I mourn; And love for love the Fair to me return. 5 GRIFF: III neighbourhood perhaps may grieve thy mind, By nature cruel, savage, and unkind. It makes my heart with sighs and groans to heave. To see a gentle shepherd thus to grieve. 6 MEIR: Nothing to me but endless grief remains; Gwenllian's dead; the glory of the plains. Love like a sword doth rend my throbbing heart My visage pale reveals the inward smart. 7 GRIFF Tho' the cold clay is laid below in earth, There yet remains behind a glorious birth. He that to heaven sues, will heaven regard, And surely will obtain a due reward. 8 MEIR Still Nature will rebel, no human lore Can make me cease my plaints, but still deplore; My heart strings burst with force of mighty pain And by the weight of grief are rent in twain. 9 GRIFF The old, the young, the pensive and the gay, All in their turns Death's summons must obey Not subtlety of wit, nor gold can guard And beauty here alone finds no regard. 10 MEIR My hours are hastening, and my running glass Warns me each moment, that my life doth pass: And I left lonesome, and no mortal wight To sooth my grief, or ease my mournful plight. 11 v. GRIFF Turn to the Rock of Ages, and implore His help thy pain to cure and health restore; His help as yet was never sought in vain, When duly asked he loves the wretched swain. 12 MEIR: Kindest Gwenllian, I thy fate bewail; Thy bounty to the poor did never fail The want of many did thy hand supply, And mournful wretches weep in passing by. 13 GRIFF: Should I my flesh among the poor divide, Without the Bleeding Lamb, my sins abide Should I extend my limbs upon the rack, And suffer in each fibre, still I lack. 14 MEIR: When true believers love the law of God, He quits the guilty, and lays down the rod When sinners penitent their failings mourn The Just One died; they are no more forlorn. 15 GRIFF: Cease ihen thy grief, and wipe the falling tears She went a Saint replete with length of years; And like autumnal fruits full ripe she fell, And bid this world at once a long farewell. 16 MEIR: All joys are gone, no comforts now remain To soothe a lonesome, wretched, helpless swain She's gone no more her equal shall I see Nor can her loss be e'er retrieved by me. 17 GRIFF: Cease these sad plaints, unworthy Christian wight, Despair can never make thy burden light, Thou didst with pious care compose her eyes, And tend (I hope) her funeral obsequies. 18 MEIR: Thy words no more my pensive heart can move, (So strong so sacred are the bands of love !) Than calm the raging storm, when fierce winds roar, And furious surgings lash the sounding shore 19 GRIFF Thy words were wont to cheer the listening swains, Sweet was thy voice, melodious were thy strains; Thy pipe resounded thro' each echoing grove, When aptly thou didst tune the notes of love. 20 MEIR Whilom into the grove I bent my way, And at my ease rehears'd the various lay; Now like a wounded nightingale I lie Cheerless, my useless pipe lies hanging by. 21 GRIFF: Let's to Llewelyn hie, our hearts to cheer; He in his homely cot has well-brew'd beer On holidays he wears a cheerful look We'll drown our cares, and make him quit his crook. 22 MEIR Some stuff I saw there scarce resembling ale, Such as I thought made poor Llewelyn pale; The blood of heroes in their veins would chill 'Tis weak as water, and the taste is ill. 23 GRIFF Tho' blustering tempests now disturb our peace, Calm days will yet succeed, and give us ease Anna will in her native honour shine See how the lilies bud, and yon wood bine. 24 MEIR Oft did my warmest inclinations tend To see this fair and hospitable friend But my lean jade can no excursion make, And floods Pont Einion it's centre shake. 25 GRIFF; The proud with indolence and hyp are curst, Lead selfish lives, and are of men the worst; 'Tis social virtues that refresh the mind, And health the greatest bliss of human kind. 26 MEIR: No peerless dame with every virtue fraught, Nor gems can draw poor Meirick from his cot; Tho' heavenly Manna lay ungather'd by, The heedless wretch would leave it there to lie. 27 GRIFF: Nant Eos, Crosswood, Mabwys all combine To show respect to such a worth as thine; Better with these to pass in mirth the day Than thus with anxious cares to pine away. .28 MEIR: No trustier friends benevolent and kind Exist for valour form'd and noble mind. All this I grant; but swains that homely fare, No luring baits betray into a snare. 29 GRIFF Since then no pleasures can divert thy mind I hope that fell despair no place will find Within thy breast; lest in eternal pain Thy soul with rakes and misers should remain. 30 MEIR All-bounteous heaven reward thy friendly care, And ten-fold blessings be thy daily share And may thy flocks in numbers ever thrive, So wholesome are the counsels thou dost give. 31s GRIFF The horn'd black ewe of famous breed and size, Meirick, is thine, tho' that which most I prize; Two lambs she yearly brings, and well sustains, And is well known the boast of all the plains. 32 MEIR A pair of shears I bought last St. John's fair, With such an edge, they'll cut beyond compare, Shall be thy lot; and these to-night I'll send: No gift can be too good to give a friend. 33 GRIFF It rains on Berwyn hills, the night draws on Rest in my cot, until to-morrow's sun Thou'rt welcome to the fare I have partake Fresh butter, cream and cheese, and oaten cake. 34 MEIR Better the wisdom of old age revere, Than offer outrage to its hoary hair But one thing needful we must mind; who knows How one short hour may of our lives dispose ? End.

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