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III. 3.
Hark, bis hands the lyre explore !
Bright-eyed Fancy, hov'ring o'er,
Scatters from her pictur'd urn
Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn,
But ah! 'tis heard no more

Oh! lyre divine, what daring spirit

Wakes thee now? Though he inherit Nor the pride, nor ample pinion,

That the Theban eagle bear,
Sailing with supreme dominion

Through the azure deep of air:
Yet oft before bis infant eyes would run

Such forms as glitter in the Muse's ray,
With orient hues, unborrow'd of the sun:

Yet shall he mount, and keep his distant way Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate, Beneath the Good how far-but far above the Great.

are meant to express the stately march and sounding energy of Dryden's rhymes.

Ver. 111. But ah! 'tis heard no more] We have had in our language no other odes of the sublime kind than that of Dry-" den on St. Cecilia's Day; for Cowley, who had merit, yet wanted judgment, style, and harmony, for such a task. That of Pope is not worthy of so great a man.

Mr. Mason indeed, of late days, has touched the true chords, and with a masterly hand, in some of his choruses; above all in the last of Caractacus :

“Hark! heard ye not yon footstep dread?” &c. Ver. 115. That the Theban eagle bear] Aids argós ögvexa Señov. OLYMP. 11. 159. Pindar compares himself to that bird, and his enemies to ravens that croak and clamour in vain below, while it pursues its flight, regardless of their noise.



This Ode is founded on a tradition current in Wales, that

Edward the First, when he completed the conquest of that country, ordered all the Bards that fell into his hands to be put to death.

I. 1.
“ Ruin seize thee, ruthless King !

Confusion on thy banners wait;
Though fann'd by Conquest's crimson wing,

They mock the air with idle state.

Helm, nor hauberk's twisted mail, Nor e'en thy virtues, Tyrant, shall avail To save thy secret soul from nightly fears, From Cambria's curse, from Cambria's tears !" Such were the sounds that o'er the crested pride

Of the first Edward scatter'd wild dismay,

Ver. 5. Helm, nor hauberk's twisted mail] The hauberk was a texture of steel ringlets, or rings interwoven, forming a coat of mail that sat close to the body, and adapted itself to every motion.

As down the steep of Snowdon's shaggy side

He wound with toilsome march his long array. Stout Glo'ster stood aghast in speechless trance: To arms!” cried Mortimer, and couch'd his

quiv'ring lance.

I. 2.

On a rock, whose haughty brow
Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood,

Robed in the sable garb of woe,
With haggard eyes the poet stood;
(Loose his beard, and boary hair
Stream’d, like a meteor, to the troubled air)
And with a master's hand, and prophet's fire,
Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre.

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Ver. 11. -—of Snowdon's shaggy side] Snowdon was a name given by the Saxons to that mountainous tract: it included all the bighlands of Caernarvonshire and Merionethshire, as far east as the river Conway.

Ver. 13. Stout Glo'ster] Gilbert de Clare, surnamed the Red, Earl of Gloucester and Hertford ; married at Westminster, May 2, 1290, 10 Joan de Acres or Acon (so called from having been born at Acon in the Holy Land) second daughter of King Edward.—He died 1295.

Ver. 14. “ To arms !". cried Mortimer] Edmond de Mortimer, Lord of Wigmore.

They both were Lord Marchers, whose lands lay on the borders of Wales, and probably accompanied the king in this expedition.

Ver. 19. Loose his beard, and hoary hair] The image was taken from a well-known picture by Raphael, representing the Supreme Being in the vision of Ezekiel.


Hark, how each giant-oak, and desert-cave,

Sighs to the torrent's awful voice beneath! O'er thee, oh King! their hundred arms they wave,

Revenge on thee in hoarser murmurs breathe ; Vocal no more, since Cambria's fatal day, To high-born Hoel's harp, or soft Llewellyn's lay.

I. 3.
“ Cold is Cadwallo's tongue,

That hush'd the stormy main:
Brave Urien sleeps upon his craggy bed :

Mountains, ye mourn in vain

Modred, wbose magic song
Made huge Plinlimon bow his cloud-topt head.

On dreary Arvon's shore they lie,
Smear’d with gore, and ghastly pale:
Far, far aloof th' affrighted ravens sail ;

The famish'd eagle screams, and passes by. Dear lost companions of my tuneful art,

Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes,

Ver. 35. On dreary Arvon's shore they lie] The shores of Caernarvonshire opposite to the isle of Anglesey.

Ver. 38. The famish'd eagle screams, anul passes by] Camden and others observe, that eagles used annually to build their aerie among the rocks of Snowdon, which from thence (as some think) were named by the Welsh Craigian-eryri, or the crags of the eagles. At this day the highest point of Snowdon is called the Eagle's Nest. That bird is certainly no stranger to this island, as the Scots, and ihe people of Camberland, Westmoreland, &c. can testify: it even has built its nest in the peak of Derbyshire. (See Willoughby's Ornithology, published by Ray.)

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Dcar as the ruddy drops that warm my heart,

Ye died amidst your dying country's criesNo more I weep. They do not sleep.

On yonder cliffs, a grisly band, I see them sit, they linger yet,

Avengers of their native land: With me in dreadful harmony they join, And weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line.

II. 1. “ Weave the warp, and weave the woof, The winding-sheet of Edward's race.

Give ample room, and verge enough The characters of hell to trace. Mark the year, and mark the night, When Severn shall re-echo with affright The shrieks of death, through Berkley's roof thatring, Shrieks of an agonizing king!

She-wolf of France, with unrelenting fangs, Tbat tear’st the bowels of thy mangled mate,

From thee be born, who o'er thy country hangs The scourge of Heav'n. What terrors round him wait! Amazement in his van, with flight combin’d, And sorrow's faded form, and solitude bebind.

Ver. 48. And weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line] See the Norwegian Ode (the Fatal Sisters) that follows.

Ver. 53. The shrieks of death, through Berkley's roof that ring] Edward the Second, cruelly butchered in Berkley Castle.

Ver. 57. She-wolf of France) Isabel of France, Edward the Second's adulterous queen.

Ver. 60. The scourge of Heav'n] Triumphs of Edward the Third in France.

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