Padarn and Teilo! ye whose sainted names
Your monumental temples still record;
Thou, David, still revered, who in the vale,
Where, by old Hatteril's wintry torrents swoln,
Rude Hodney rolls his raging stream, didst chuse
Thy hermit home; and ye who by the sword
Of the fierce Saxon, when the bloodier Monk
Urged on the work of murder, for your faith
And freedom fell,.. Martyrs and Saints, ye saw
This triumph of the Cymry and the Cross,
And struck your golden harps to hymns of joy.
As now the rites were ended, Caradoc
Came from the ships, leading an Azteca
Guarded and bound. Prince Madoc, said the Bard,
Lo! the first captive of our arms I bring.
Alone, beside the river I had strayed,
When, from his lurking place, the savage hurled
A javelin. At the rustle of the reeds,
From whence the blow was aimed, I turned in time, And heard it whizz beside me.
That from the ships they saw and succoured me;
For, subtle as a serpent in my grasp,
He seemed all joint and flexure; nor had I
Armour to ward, nor weapon to offend,
To battle all unused and unprepared;
But I too, here, upon this barbarous land,
Like Elmur and like Aronan of old,
Must lift the ruddy spear.
For vengeance, answered Madoc, else his deed
Had met no mercy. Freely let him go!
Perchance the tidings of our triumph here
May yet reclaim his country... Azteca,
Go, let
your Pabas know that we have crushed
Their complots here; beneath our righteous sword
The Priest and his false Deity have fallen,
The Idols been consumed, and in their stead
The emblems of our holy faith set up,
Whereof the Hoamen have this day been made
Partakers. Say to Aztlan, when she too
Will make her temples clean, and put away
Her foul abominations, and accept
The Christian Cross, that Madoc then accords
Forgiveness for the past, and peace to come.
This better part let her, of her free will
And wisdom, chuse in time.
The captive reckless of his peril stood,
Gazing with resolute and careless eye,
As one in whom the lot of life or death
Moved neither fear nor feeling; but that eye
Now glowing with defiance,.. Seek ye peace?
He cried: O weak and woman-hearted man!
Already wouldst thou lay the sword to rest?
Not with the burial of the sword this strife
Must end, for never doth the Tree of Peace
Strike root and flourish till the strong man's hand
Upon his enemy's grave hath planted it.
Come ye to Aztlan then in quest of peace?
Ye feeble souls, if that be what ye seek
Fly hence! our Aztlan suffers on her soil
No living stranger.
Do thy bidding, Chief! Calmly Cadwallon answered. To her choice Let Aztlan look, lest what she now reject In insolence of strength, she take upon her, In sorrow and in suffering and in shame, By strong compulsion, penitent too late. Thou hast beheld our ships with gallant men Freighted, a numerous force,.. and for our arms, . Surely thy nation hath acquired of them
Dare lay that cowardly advantage by,
And meet me, man to man, in honest strife?
That I might grapple with him, weaponless,
On yonder rock, breast against breast, fair force
Of limb and breath and blood,.. till one, or both,
Dash'd down the shattering precipice, should feed
The mountain eagle!.. Give me, I beseech you,
That joy!
As wisely, said Cynetha's son,
Thy foe might challenge thee, and bid thee let
Thy strong right hand hang idle in the fray;
That so his weakness with thy strength might cope
In equal battle!.. Not in wrongful war,
The tyrants of our weaker brethëren,
Wield we these dreadful arms,.. but when assailed
By fraud and force, when called upon to aid
The feeble and oppressed, shall we not
Then put our terrors forth, and thunder-strike
The guilty?
Silently the Savage heard;
Joy brightened in his eyes, as they unloosed
His bonds; he stretched his arms at length, to feel
His liberty, and, like a greyhound then
Slipt from the leash, he bounded o'er the hills.
|