The Poetry of Wales | Page 9

not seen,
But
light'ning white and flashy,
Thunder throughout the heavens,
A
torrent from on high.
A thousand cascades roar
Boiling with floods
of hate,
Rivers all powerful
With great commotion rush.
The air
disturb'd is seen,
While the distant sea's in uproar:
The heaving
ocean bounds,
Within its prison wild;
Great thundering throughout

The bottomless abyss.
Some folk, simple and bewilder'd,
For
shelter seek the mountains;
Shortly the raging waters
Drown their
loftiest summits.
Where shall they go, where flee
From the eternal
torrent?
Conscience, a ready witness,
Having been long asleep,

Mute among mortals,
Now awakens with stinging pangs.

THE SHIPWRECK.
BY REV. W. WILLIAMS.
[The Rev William Williams, whose bardic name was _Gwilym
Caledfryn_, was a Welsh Congregationalist Minister, and an eminent
poet. His Ode on the wreck of the ship Rothsay Castle, off Anglesea, is
a very graphic and forcible Poem, and won the chief prize at an
Eisteddfod held at Beaumaris in 1839, which was honoured by the
presence of Her Majesty the Queen, then the Princess Victoria, who
graciously invested the young bard, with the appropriate decoration.]
Boiling and tearing was the fearful deep,
Its raging waves aroused
from lengthened sleep
Together marching like huge mountains;
The
swell how great--nature bursting its chains!
The bounding spray

dashed 'gainst the midnight stars
In its wild flight shedding salt tears.
Again it came a sweeping mighty deluge,
Washing the firmament
with breakers huge;
Ripping the ocean's bosom so madly,

Wondrous its power when roaring so wildly,
The vessel was seen
immersed in the tide,
While all around threatened destruction wide.
God, ruler of the waters,
His words of might now utters,
His legions
calls to battle:
No light of sun visible,
The firmament so low'ring,

With tempest strong approaching.
Loud whistling it left its recesses,
Threats worlds with wreck, so
fearful it rages,
While heaven unchaining the surly billows,
Both
wind and wave rush tumultuous,
Sweeping the main, the skies
darkening,
While Rothsay to awful destruction is speeding.
Anon upon the wave she's seen,
Reached through struggles hard and
keen:
Again she's hurled into the abyss,
While all around tornados
hiss,
Through the salt seas she helpless rolls,
While o'er her still the
billow falls:
Alike she was in her danger
To the frail straw dragg'd
by the river.
The ocean still enraged in mountains white,
Would like a drunkard
reel in sable night,
While she her paddles plies against the wave,

Yet all in vain the sweeping tide to brave:
Driven from her course
afar by the loud wind,
Then back again by breezes from behind;

Headlong she falls into the fretful surge,
While weak and broken does
she now emerge.
The inmates are now filled with fear,
Destruction seeming so near;

The vessel rent in awful chasms,
Waxing weaker, weaker she seems.

Anon is heard great commotion,
Roaring for spoil is the lion;
The

vessel's own final struggles
Are fierce, while the crew trembles.
The hurricane increasing
Over the grim sea is driving,
Drowning
loud moans, burying all
In its passage dismal.
How hard their fate, O how they wept
In that sad hour of miseries
heap'd;
Some sighed, others prayed fervently,
Others mad, or in
despair did cry.
Affrighted they ran to and fro,
To flee from certain death and woe;

While _he_, with visage grim and dark,
Would still surround the
doomed bark.
Deep night now veiled the firmament,
While sombre clouds thicker
were sent
To hide each star, the ocean's rage
No cries of grief could
even assuage.
The vessel sinks beneath the might
Of wind, and wave, and blackest
night,
While through the severed planks was heard
The breaker's
splash, with anger stirred.
PART II. THE BEAUTIFUL.
AN ADDRESS TO THE SUMMER.
BY DAFYDD AP GWILYM.
[Dafydd ap Gwilym was the son of Gwilym Gam, of Brogynin, in the
parish of Llanbadarn Fawr, Cardiganshire, and was born about the year
1340. The bard was of illustrious lineage, and of handsome person. His
poetical talent and personal beauty procured him the favourable notice
of the fair sex; which, however, occasioned him much misfortune. His
attachments were numerous, and one to Morvydd, the daughter of
Madog Lawgam, of Niwbwrch, in Anglesea, a Welsh chieftain, caused
the bard to be imprisoned. This lady was the subject of a great portion
of the bard's poems. Dafydd ap Gwilym has been styled the Petrarch of
Wales. He composed some 260 poems, most of which are sprightly,

figurative, and pathetic. The late lamented Arthur James Johnes,
Esquire, translated the poems of Dafydd ap Gwilym into English. They
are very beautiful, and were published by Hooper, Pall Mall, in 1834.
The bard, after leading a desultory life, died in or about the year 1400.]
Thou summer! so lovely and gay,
Ah! whither so soon art thou gone?
The world will attend to my lay
While thy absence I sadly bemoan:
With flow'rs hast thou cherish'd
the glade,
The fair orchard with opening buds,--
The hedge-rows with darkening
shade,
And with verdure the meadows and woods.
How calm in the vale by the brook--
How blithe o'er the lawn didst thou rove,
To prepare the fresh bow'r
in the nook
For the damsel whose wishes were love:
When, smiling with heaven's
bright beam,
Thou didst paint every hillock and field,
And reflect, in