"Above, below, the rofe of snow,

"Twined with her blufhing foe, we spread:

"The briftled f Boar in infant-gore

"Wallows beneath the thorny shade.

"Now, Brothers, bending o'er th' accurfed loom

"Stamp we our vengeance deep, and ratify his doom.

e The white and red rofes, devices of York and Lancaster.

f The filver Boar was the badge of Richard the Third; whence he was ufually known in his own time by the name of the Boar.

III. 1.

"Edward, lo! to fudden fate

" (Weave we the woof. The thread is spun)

"Half of thy heart we confecrate.

(The web is wove. The work is done.”

Leave me unblefs'd, unpitied, here to mourn:

* Eleanor of Caftile died a few years after the conquest of Wales. The heroic proof the gave of her affection for her Lord is well known. The monuments of his regret, and forrow for the loss of her, are still to be seen at Northampton, Geddington, Waltham, and other places.

• In yon bright track, that fires the western skies,

'But oh! what folemn fcenes on Snowdon's height

'Descending flow their glitt'ring skirts unroll?

• Visions of glory, spare my aching fight,

• Ye unborn Ages, crowd not on my foul !

'No more our long-loft Arthur we bewail.

'All-hail, iye genuine Kings, Britannia's Iffue, hail !

h It was the common belief of the Welch nation, that King Arthur was still alive in Fairy-Land, and should return again to reign over Britain.

i Both Merlin and Talieffin had prophefied, that the Welch fhould regain their fovereignty over this island; which feemed to be accomplished in the House of Tudor.

• Girt with many a Baron bold

Sublime their ftarry fronts they rear;

And gorgeous Dames, and State finen old

In bearded majefty, appear.

In the midst a Form divine!

Her eye proclaims her of the Briton-Line;

'Her lyon-port, her awe-commanding face,

Attemper'd sweet to virgin-grace.

* Speed relating an audience given by Queen Elizabeth to Paul Dzialinski, Ambassadour of Poland, fays, And thus fhe, lion-like rifing, daunted the malapert Orator no less with her stately port and majeftical deporture, than with the tartneffe of her princelie 'checkes.

• What

1

'What strings fymphonious tremble in the air,

• What strains of vocal transport round her play!

Hear from the grave, great Talieffin', hear;

They breathe a foul to animate thy clay.

Bright Rapture calls, and foaring, as she fings,

Waves in the eye of Heav'n her many-colour'd wings.

1

Talieffin, Chief of the Bards, flourished in the VIth Century. His works are ftill preferved, and his memory held in high veneration among his Countrymen.