THE CAMBRIAN WREATH; Poems, Historical, Legendary, and Humorous. THE HARP OF WALES. An Ode, Inscribed to the late Princess Charlotte of Wales, on dedicating to her an Elegant volume of Welsh Melodies. By John F. M. Dovaston, A. M. Sweet Harp of Wales, Forgive a Border-minstrel young, That tunes thy tones all slack and sleeping, And wakes thy wires to Saxon tongue, hy chords with feeble fingers sweeping. Though thine old oak is bare and broke, and sad scathed branches long have crown'd it, Some few green sprays, in summer days, glossy green, wave light around it : Of these I'll pluck and plank the fair, nd golden missletoe I'll bring thee, With ivy-bands to bind it there, ough I to Saxon voice must ring thee; And if short while these garlands smile, hey'll better suit the songs I sing thee, Sweet Harp of Wales! L Dear Harp of Wales! I owe thee much; For she that bids me now address thee, Has made my raptured bosom bless thee, To greet with every muse, In pleasure's hour, At the fairy bower, Among the meeting hills of shady Vallecruse.* With such to cherish Friendship's flame, While such allow my lays One ivy leaf to claim, Oh then to me, Thy minstrelsie Is sweeter far than Fame, Dear Harp of Wales. Sad Harp of Wales, Thy wild and mournful melodies, Though an enthusiastic and very frequent visitor of mountains, woods, rocks, and waters of Vale Crucis, which, v the fine ruins of its venerably abbey, terminates the upper reces Llangollen vale, just where the rocky and romantic Dee searc impatiently, its winding way, between the mountains from Glynd dwy vale, all overhung with oaks and old birches; I shall avail self, the better to give some faint idea of this lovely spot, of a pas abridged from "The Philosophy of Nature."-The Cistercian ar of Vale Crusis rise in a deep romantic vale, encompassed on all by towering rocks and mountains, which render it worthy the p Dyer, the harp of Taliesin, and the touch of Wouvermanns; a in which, forsaking all the world, you might devote the remaind your days to contemplation and delight: it appears, as Rous would have said, like an asylum which Nature had spared for faithful lovers, escaped from the ruin and desolation of the w There you might learn to estimate at their true value, the por Folly, the ignorance of Pride, and the littleness of human grande Though muffled now in silent slumbers, By him, the warrior-bard* of yore, High Harp of Wales, By firm conflicting Freedom strung, Thy strains to panting patriots flung, Have on to conquest led her. Great Bards of Cambria! your grand requiems loud Mevanwy Vechan; see the poem of that title in this work. The lover of Proud Harp of Wales, Of thy princess sweet, Of worth beyond thy power to praise her; Her courtesy, Who takes thy nation's name to grace her: THE AWEN'S REVIVAL. By Henry Davies. I. LONG ages of gloom have enveloped thy glory, And we look through the vista in vain for a spark, To illumine and brighten the leaves of thy story; But all that surrounds them is gloomy and dark. Each hero, each patriot, has gone unrecorded, And lost like a star overcast by a cloud, For no one a wreath to the poet awarded, That wove immortality up with his shroud. II. Since Gryffydd was slain, when his rights he defended, The Awen of Cymru has lain in the grave; Though when Glyndwr arose it flash'd high and ascende Bright gleaming awhile o'er the land of the brave: 'Twas past in an instant, 'twas gone like a meteor III. But now there appears in the sky, sweetly dawning! May it shine on thy mountains and valleys forever! SHADES OF THE GREAT. Stanzas on the formation of the Cambrian Institution. I. SHADES of the great, the nobly brave, The treasures of your native land II. Cambria, exult! behold, her wings, Aroused from slumber, Fame hath spread; |