The Massachusetts spy, and Worcester County advertiser. [volume] ([Worcester, Mass.]) 1825-1831, 1825-08-31

[From the Rhode-Island American.1
The gifted author Of The subjoined spirited and
highly poetic effnsion is no stranger TO our col.
umns- Judging from the grace and dehcacy of
the manuscript, we should guess that our cores
ponsent is lady, who strikes her spiri,-stirring
Tyre from the bosom Of that seslusion which mod.
es, genius loves.
SONGS OF THE WELSH B.ARDS.
Suggested BY reading the second chapter Of the
Besyolhed, b, the aoihor Of Wayerly.
CARADoc's SoNs
have heard thee, my Prince, and will answer
thy call
To waken my harp in the banqueting hall,
For swifter the gay hours shall hasten along
When wing'd with the music Of eloquent song,
And, though dark vsagd Cadwsllon sings not to
thee,
My tones through thy halls shall ring merry and
free.
Hush'd be the laugh-Iet the loud voice be stilld,
And with bright wine each deep cup be joyously
6'd;
While the bard sweeps his harp and awskens a
theme
As bright and divine as young lovers dream,
And tells OF her charms, who is worthy TO wear
The sign of our Chiefs chosen bride iu her hair
Her voice is sweet music-as happy and light
As the song Of the lark in her earliest fight;
The sign that floats over her fathers hlgh crest
Is the bird with the areh'd neck and snowy white
breast;
Aud she moves on the earth like the sky's airy
daughter,
AS still as that bird through the clear sunny water.
What though in her veins the proud Norman
blood swells,
And The tinge of the North on her dimped cheek
dwels;
Her pure blood is gentle-those veins lovely
lines
Wind over neck where the diamond shines,
And the blush on her cheek is as soft as the hue
That stains the pure lily leaf bending with dew
Though her sire thy foe, and his Iances are red
With the blood ofthy knsmen in battle time shed.
Yet the drum shall De silent, the trumpet be still,
And the be aeon fires die Oh each desola,c hill.
Sweet Peace shall be here with her haleyon sway,
And Love wipe the deep stains of murder away.
WonId ye ask of the sun where he GIFTED bis
flame!
Would se ask of the pearl from what ocean it
came!
Would ye ask of the rose where its perfume was
Or from what sunny realms came the bushes of
morn -
Then ask not her cline, whether fetter'd or free
For the chaste and the fair one is worthy Of thee
CADwALLoN's SONG.
Wed not with the stranger dishonor and shame
Shall wait on thee then-there is death in the
name;
Wed not with the stranger though lovely and
fair,
Though light be her form as a daughter of air,
Though her smile be an angel's-there's death in
that smile
Wed not with the stranger the base one and vile.
a smooth song of peace has young Caradoc sung,
When battles loud cry should have been on bis
tongue;
He has told thee of Beauty, when Glory should
fling
Ger thy plume snd thy banner her radiant wing ;
He has prated Of woman and pleasure and love,
Aud, instead Of the eagle. has sung of the dOUe.
Shall the Prince of land, once unfetterd and
free,
Bend in dust, to the Norman's vain daughter, his
knee9
Shall the Chef Of people, unconquer'd and brave,
Give his heart and his realm to the child of slave
She may leave on his lips the warm dew of her
breath,
But the treaeherous poinard will sting him to
death.
Then wed not the stranger! but rouse thee in
might,
Let the wolf of Plinlimmon be ready for fight,
Let his lip curl with scorn at the aliens name.
And triumph shall brighten the wreath of hi,
Then wed not the stranger, and bend not the
knee
To the child of the foeman, unworthy of thee.