must be owing entirely to my inability to do the Bards justice.  I am not the only person who admires them: men of the greatest sense and learning in Wales do the same.

It must be owned, that it is an arduous task to bring them to make any tolerable figure in a prose translation; but those who have any candour, will make allowances.  What was said of poetry in general by one of the wits, that it is but Prose run mad, may very justly be applied to our Bards in particular: for there are not such extravagant flights in any poetic compositions, except it be in the Eastern, to which, as far as I can judge by the few translated specimens I have seen, they bear a great resemblance.

I have added a few Notes, to illustrate some historical facts alluded to in the poems, and a short account of each poem, and the occasion it was written upon, as far as it could be traced from our ancient manuscripts.

I have been obliged to leave blanks in some places, where I did not understand the meaning in the original, as I had but one copy by me, which might be faulty.  When I have an opportunity to collate it with other copies, I may clear these obscure passages.

SPECIMENS OF ANCIENT WELSH POETRY.

A poem composed by Owain Cyveiliog, prince of Powys, entitled by him Hirlas, from a large drinking horn so called, used at feasts in his palace.  He was driven out of his country by Owain Gwynedd, prince of North Wales, and Rhys-ap-Griffydd-ap-Rhys-ap-Tewdwr, prince of South Wales, a.d. 1167, and recovered it, by the help of the Normans and English, under Henry the second.  He flourished about a.d. 1160, in the time of Owain Gwynedd and his son David.  This poem was composed on account of a battle fought with the English at Maelor, which is a part of the counties of Denbigh and Flint, according to the modern division.

When the dawn arose, the shout was given; the enemy gave an ominous presage; our men were stained with blood, after a hard contest; and the borders of Maelor Drefred were beheld with wonder and astonishment.  Strangers have I driven away undaunted from the field with bloody arms.  He that provokes the brave man, ought to dread his resentment.

Fill, cup-bearer, fill with alacrity the horn of Rhys, in the generous prince’s hall; for Owain’s hall was ever supported by spoils taken from the enemy; and in it thou hearest of the relief of thousands.  There the gates are ever open.

O cup-bearer, who, with patience, mindest thy duty, forsake us not; fetch the horn, that we may drink together, whose gloss is like the wave of the sea; whose

green handles shew the skill of the artist, and are tipped with gold.  Bring the best meath, and put it in Gwgan Draws’s hand, for the noble feats which he hath achieved: the offspring of Gronwy, who valiantly fought in the midst of dangers; a race of heroes for worthy acts renowned: and men, who, in every hardship they undergo, deserve a reward; who are in the battle foremost: the guardians of Sabrina.  Their friends exult, when they hear their voice.  The festal shout will cease when they are gone.

Fill thou the yellow-tipped horn, badge of honour and mirth, full of frothing meath; and if thou art desirous to have thy life prolonged to the year’s end, stop not the reward due to his virtue, for it is unjust; and bring it to Griffydd, with the crimson lance.  Bring wine in the transparent horn; for he is the guardian of Arwystli, [10a] the defence of its borders; a dragon of Owain the generous, whose descent is from Cynvyn; a dragon he was from the beginning, that never was terrified in the battle; his brave actions shall follow him.  The warriors went to purchase renown, flushed with liquor, and armed like Edwin; they paid for their mead, like Belyn’s [10b] men, in the days of yore.  And as long as men exist, their valour shall be the common theme of Bards.

Fill thou the horn; for it is my inclination, that we may converse in mirth and festivity with our brave general; put it in the hand of the worthy Ednyfed, with his spear broken to pieces, and his shield pierced through.

Like the bursting of a hurricane upon the smooth sea . . . in the conflict of battle, they

would soon break in pieces the sides of a golden-bordered shield: their lances were besmeared with gore, after piercing the heads of their enemies; they were vigorous and active in the defence of delightful Garthan. [11a]  Heard ye in Maelor the noise of war, the horrid din of arms, their furious onset, loud as in the battle of Bangor, [11b] where fire flashed out of their spears?  There two princes engaged, when the carousing of Morach Vorvran [11c] happened.

Fill thou the horn; for it is my delight, in the place where the defenders of our country drink mead, and give it to Selyf the fearless, the defence of Gwygyr; [11d] woe to the wretch that offends him, eagle-hearted hero: and to the son of Madoc, the famous and generous Tudur, like a wolf when he seizes his prey, is his assault in the onset.  Two heroes, who were sage in their counsels, but active in the field, the two sons of Ynyr, who, on the day of battle, were ready for the attack, heedless of danger, famous for their exploits; their assault was like that of strong lions, and they pierced their enemies like brave warriors; they were lords of the battle, and rushed foremost

with their crimson lances; the weight of their attack was not to be withstood; their shields were broke asunder with much force, as the high-sounding wind on the beach of the green sea, and the encroaching of the furious waves on the coast of Talgarth. [12a]

Fill, cup-bearer, as thou regardest thy life; fill the horn, badge of honour at feasts, the hirlas [12b] drinking-horn, which is a token of distinction, whose tip is adorned with silver, and it’s cover of the same metal; and bring it to Tudur, the eagle of battles, filled with the best wine; and if thou dost not bring us the best of all, thy head shall fly off: give it in the hand of