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The gust of war subsides-E'en now

The grim chief curls his cheek, and smooths his rugged brow.

“Shame to your placid front, ye men of death!” Cries HILDA, with disorder'd breath.

Hell echoes back her scoff of shame

To the inactive rev'ling Champion's name. "Call forth the song," she scream'd ;-the minstrels

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The theme was glorious war, the dear delight
Of shining best in field, and daring most in fight.

"Joy to the soul," the Harpers sung,
"When embattl'd ranks among,

"The steel-clad Knight, in vigour's bloom,
"(Banners waving o'er his plume)

"Foremost rides, the flower and boast

"Of the bold determin'd host!"

With greedy ears the guests each note devour'd, Each struck his beaver down, and grasp'd his faithful sword.

The fury mark'd th' auspicious deed,

And bad the Scalds proceed.

"Joy to the soul! a joy divine!

"When conflicting armies join;

"When trumpets clang, and bugles sound;
"When strokes of death are dealt around;

"When the sword feasts, yet craves for more; "And every gauntlet drips with gore."

The charm prevail'd, up rush'd the madden'd throng,
Panting for carnage, as they foam'd along.
Fierce ODIN's self led forth the frantic band,
To scatter havock wide o'er many a guilty land.

ODE VI.

THE

BATTLE OF ARGOED LLWYFAIN.

BY WILLIAM WHITEHEAD, ESQ.
[Late Poet-Laureat.]

MORNING rose; the issuing sun
Saw the dreadful fight begun;
And that sun's descending ray
Clos'd the battle, clos'd the day.

Fflamdwyn pour'd his rapid bands,
Legion's four, o'er Reged's lands.
The numerous host, from side to side,
Spread destruction wild and wide,
From Argoed's summits, forest-crown'd,
To steep Arfynydd's utmost bound.
Short their triumph, short their sway,
Born and ended with the day!

Flush'd with conquest Fflamdwyn said,
Boastful at his army's head,

"Strive not to oppose the stream,
Redeem your lands, your lives redeem.
Give me pledges Fflamdwyn cried;
Never, Urien's son replied,

Owen of the mighty stroke;

Kindling, as the hero spoke,
Cenau, Coel's blooming heir,

Caught the flame and grasp'd the spear;
Shall Coel's issue pledges give
To the insulting foe, and live ?
Never such be Britons' shame,
Never, till this mangled frame,
Like some vanquish'd lion, lie
Drench'd in blood, and bleeding die.

"Day advanc'd and ere the sun
Reach'd the radiant point of noon,
Urien came with fresh supplies:
Rise, ye sons of Cambria, rise,
Spread your banners to the foe,
Spread them on the mountain's brow;
Lift your lances high in air,
Friends and brothers of the war;
Rush like torrents down the steep,
Thro' the vales in myriads sweep;
Fflamdwyn never can sustain
The force of our united train.”

Havoc, havoc rag'd around, Many a carcase strew'd the ground: Ravens drank the purple flood,

Raven plumes were dyed in blood;

Frighted crowds from place to place, Eager, hurrying, breathless, pale, Spread the news of their disgrace, Trembling as they told the tale.

These are Taliessin's rhimes, These shall live to distant times, And the Bard's prophetic rage Animate a future age.

Child of sorrow, child of pain,

Never may I smile again,

If, 'till all-subduing death

Close these eyes, and stop this breath, Ever I forget to raise

My grateful songs to Urien's praise.

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