The Ninth Song

The Muse heere Merioneth vaunts,
And her proud Mountaines highly chaunts.
The Hills and Brooks, to brauery bent,
Stand for precedence from Descent:
The Riuers for them shewing there
The wonders of their Pimblemere.
Proud Snowdon gloriously proceeds
With Cambria's natiue Princes deeds.
The Muse then through Carnarvan makes,
And Mon (now Anglesey) awakes
To tell her ancient Druides guise,
And manner of their Sacrifice.
Her Rillets shee together calls;
Then back for Flint and Denbigh falls.

OF all the Cambrian Shires their heads that beare so hie,
And farth'st survay their soyles with an ambitious eye,
Mervinia for her Hills, as for their matchlesse crowds,
The neerest that are said to kisse the wandring clowds,
Especiall Audience craues, offended with the throng,
That shee of all the rest neglected was so long:
Alleaging for her selfe; When through the Saxons pride,
The God-like race of Brute to Severns setting side
Were cruelly inforc't, her Mountaines did relieue
Those, whom deuouring warre else euery-where did grieue.
And when all Wales beside (by Fortune or by might)
Vnto her ancient foe resign'd her ancient right,
A constant Mayden still shee onely did remaine,
The last her genuine lawes which stoutly did retaine.
And as each one is prays'd for her peculiar things;
So onely shee is rich, in Mountaines, Meres, and Springs,
And holds her selfe as great in her superfluous wast,
As others by their Townes, and fruitfull tillage grac't.
And therefore, to recount her Riuers, from their Lins,
Abbridging all delayes, Mervinia thus begins;
Though Dovy, which doth far her neighboring Floods surmount
(Whose course, for hers alone Mountgomery doth account)
Hath Angell for her owne, and Keriog she doth cleere,
With Towin, Gwedall then, and Dulas, all as deere,
Those tributary streames she is maintain'd withall:
Yet, boldly may I say, her rising and her fall
My Country calleth hers, with many another Brooke,
That with their crystall eyes on the Vergiuian looke.
To Dovy next, of which Desunny sea-ward driues,
Lingorrill goes alone: but plentious Avon striues
The first to be at Sea; and faster her to hie,
Cleere Kessilgum comes in, with Hergum by and by.
So Derry, Moothy drawes, and Moothy calleth Caine,
Which in one channell meet, in going to the Maine,
As to their vtmost power to lend her all their aydes:
So Atro by the arme Lanbeder kindly leads.
And Velenrid the like, obseruing th'others lawe,
Calls Cunnell; shee againe, faire Drurid forth doth draw,
That from their mother Earth, the rough Mervinia, pay
Their mixed plentious Springs, vnto the lesser Bay
Of those two noble armes into the Land that beare,
Which through Gwinethia be so famous euery where,
On my Carnarvan side by nature made my Mound,
As Dovy doth diuide the Cardiganian ground.
The peatly Conwayes head, as that of holy Dee,
Renowned Riuers both, their rising haue in mee:
So, Lauern and the Lue, themselues that head-long throwe
Into the spacious Lake, where Dee vnmixt doth flowe.
Trowerrin takes his streame, here from a natiue Lin;
Which, out of Pimblemere when Dee him selfe doth win,
Along with him his Lord full curteously doth glide:
So Rudock riseth heere, and Cletor that doe guide
Him in his rugged path, and make his greatnes way,
Their Dee into the bounds of Denbigh to convay.
The loftie Hills, this while attentiuely that stood,
As to survey the course of euery seuerall Flood,
Sent forth such ecchoing shoutes (which euery way so shrill,
With the reverberate sound the spacious ayre did fill)
That they were easely heard through the Vergiuian Maine
To Neptunes inward Court; and beating there, constraine
That mightie God of Sea t'awake: who full of dread,
Thrice threw his three-forkt Mace about his griefly head,
And thrice aboue the Rocks his fore-head rays'd to see
Amongst the high-topt Hills what tumult it should bee.
So that with very sweat Cadoridric did drop,
And mighty Raran shooke his proud sky-kissing top,
Amongst the furious rout whom madnes did enrage;
Vntill the Mountaine Nymphs, the tumult to asswage,
Vpon a modest signe of silence to the throng,
Consorting thus, in prayse of their Mervinia, song;
Thrice famous Saxon King, on whom Time nere shall pray,
O Edgar! who compeldst our Ludwall hence to pay
Three hundred Wolues a yeere for trybute vnto thee:
And for that tribute payd, as famous may'st thou bee,
O conquer'd British King, by whom was first destroy'd
The multitude of Wolues, that long this Land annoy'd;
Regardlesse of their rape, that now our harmlesse Flocks,
Securely heere may sit vpon the aged Rocks;
Or wandring from their walks, and straggling here and there
Amongst the scattred Cleeues, the Lambe needs neuer feare;
But from the threatning storme to saue it selfe may creepe
Into that darksome Caue where once his foe did keepe:
That now the clambring Goat all day which hauing fed,
And clyming vp to see the sunne goe downe to bed,
Is not at all in doubt her little Kid to lose,
Which grazing in the Vale, secure and safe she knowes.
Where, from these lofty hills which spacious heauen doe threat,
Yet of as equall height, as thick by nature set,
We talke how wee are stor'd, or what wee greatly need,
Or how our flocks doe fare, and how our heards doe feed,
When else the hanging Rocks, and Vallyes dark and deepe,
The Sommers longest day would vs from meeting keepe.
Yee Cambrian Shepheards then, whō these our Mountaines please,
And yee our fellow Nymphs, yee light Oreades,
Saint Hellens wondrous way, and Herberts let vs goe,
And our diuided Rocks with admiration showe.
Not meaning there to end, but speaking as they were,
A suddaine fearefull noyse surprised euery eare.
The water-Nymphs (not farre) Lin-Teged that frequent,
With browes besmear'd with ooze, their locks with dewe besprent,
Inhabiting the Lake, in sedgy bowres belowe,
Their inward grounded griefe that onely sought to showe
Against the Mountaine kind, which much on them did take
Aboue their watry brood, thus proudly them bespake;
Tell vs, ye haughtie Hills, why vainly thus you threat,
Esteeming vs so meane, compar'd to you so great.
To make you know your selues, you this must vnderstand,
That our great Maker layd the surface of the Land,
As levell as the Lake vntill the generall Flood,
When ouer all so long the troubled waters stood:
Which, hurried with the blasts from angry heauen that blew,
Vpon huge massy heapes the loosened grauell threw:
From hence we would yee knew, your first beginning came.
Which, since, in tract of time, your selues did Mountaines name.
So that the earth, by you (to check her mirthfull cheere)
May alwaies see (from heauen) those plagues that poured were
Vpon the former world; as t'were by scarres to showe
That still shee must remaine disfigur'd with the blowe:
And by th'infectious slime that doomefull Deluge left,
Nature herselfe hath since of puritie beene reft;
And by the seeds corrupt, the life of mortall man
Was shortned. With these plagues yee Mountaines first began.
But, ceasing you to shame; What Mountaine is there found
In all your monstrous kind (seeke yee the Iland round)
That truly of him selfe such wonders can report
As can this spacious Lin, the place of our resort?
That when Dee in his course faine in her lap would lie,
Commixtion with her store, his streame shee doth deny,
By his complexion prou'd, as he through her doth glide.
Her wealth againe from his, she likewise doth divide:
Those White-fish that in her doe wondrously abound,
Are neuer seene in him; nor are his Salmons found
At any time in her: but as shee him disdaines;
So hee againe, from her, as wilfully abstaines.
Downe from the neighboring Hills, those plentious Springs that fall,
Nor Land-floods after raine, her neuer moue at all.
And as in Sommers heat, so alwaies is she one,
Resembling that great Lake which seemes to care for none:
And with sterne Eolus blasts, like Thetis waxing ranke,
Shee onely ouer-s•ells the surface of her bank.
But, whilst the Nymphs report these wonders of their Lake,
Their further cause of speech the mightie Snowdon brake;
Least, if their watry kind should suffred be too long,
The licence that they tooke, might doe the Mountaines wrong.
For quickly he had found that straitned poynt of Land,
Into the Irish Sea which puts his powrefull hand,
Puft with their watry praise, grew insolently proud,
And needs would haue his Rills for Riuers be allow'd:
Short Dorent, neer'st vnto the vtmost poynt of all
That th'Ile of Gelin greets, and Bardsey in her fall;
And next to her, the Sawe, the Gir, the Er, the May,
Must Riuers be at least, should all the world gaine-say:
And those, whereas the Land lyes East-ward, amply wide,
That goodly Conway grace vpon the other side,
Borne neere vpon her banks, each from her proper Lin,
Soone from their Mothers out, soone with their Mistris in.
As Ledder, her Allie, and neighbour Legwy; then
Goes Purloyd, Castell next, with Giffin, that agen
Obserue faire Conway's course: and though their race be short,
Yet they their Soueraigne Flood inrich with their resort.
And Snowdon, more then this, his proper Mere did note
(Still Delos like, wherein a wandring Ile doth floate)
Was peremptory growne vpon his higher ground;
That Poole, in which (besides) the one-eyed fish are found,
As of her wonder proud, did with the Floods partake.
So, when great Snowdon saw, a Faction they would make
Against his generall kind; both parties to appease,
Hee purposeth to sing their natiue Princes praise.
For Snowdony, a Hill, imperiall in his seat,
Is from his mighty foote, vnto his head so great,
That were his Wales distrest, or of his helpe had need,
Hee all her Flocks and Heards for many months could feed.
Therefore to doe some-thing were worthy of his name,
Both tending to his strength, and to the Britans fame,
His Country to content, a signall hauing made,
By this Oration thinks both Parties to perswade:
Whilst heere this generall Ile, the ancient Britans ow'd,
Their valiant deeds before by Severn haue been show'd:
But, since our furious Foe, these powrefull Saxon swarmes
(As mercilesse in spoyle, as well approu'd in Armes)
Heere called to our ayde, Loëgria vs bereft,
Those poore and scatter'd few of Brutes high linage left,
For succour hither came; where that vnmixed race
Remaines vnto this day, yet owners of this place:
Of whom no Flood nor Hill peculiarly hath song.
These, then, shall be my Theame: least Time too much should wrong
Such Princes as were ours, since seuer'd we haue been;
And as themselues, their fame be limited between
The Severne and our Sea, long pent within this place,
Till with the tearme of Welsh, the English now embase
The nobler Britains name, that welneere was destroy'd
With Pestilence and Warre, which this great Ile annoy'd;
Cadwallader that draue to the Armorick shore:
To which, drad Conan, Lord of Denbigh, long before,
His Countrymen from hence auspiciously convay'd:
Whose noble feates in warre, and neuer-fayling ay'd,
Got Maximus (at length) the victorie in Gaul,
Vpon the Roman powers. Where, after Gratians fall,
Armorica to them the valiant Victor gaue:
Where Conan, their great Lord, as full of courage, draue
The Celts out of their seats, and did their roome supply
With people still from hence; which of our Colony
Was little Britaine call'd. Where that distressed King,
Cadwallader, himselfe awhile recomforting
With hope of Alans ayde (which there did him detaine)
Forewarned was in Dreames, that of the Britans raigne
A sempiternall end the angry Powers decreed,
A Recluse life in Rome inioyning him to lead.
The King resigning all, his sonne young Edwall left
With Alan: who, much grieu'd the Prince should be bereft
Of Britains ancient right, rigg'd his vnconquer'd Fleet;
And as the Generalls then, for such an Army meet,
His Nephew Iuor chose, and Hi•er for his pheere;
Two most vndaunted spirits. These valiant Britans were
The first who West-sex wonne. But by the ling'ring warre,
When they those Saxons found t'haue succour still from farre,
They tooke them to their friends on Severns setting shore:
Where finding Edwall dead, they purpos'd to restore
His sonne young Rodorick, whom the Saxon powers pursu'd:
But hee, who at his home heere scorn'd to be subdu'd,
With Aldred (that on Wales his strong invasion brought)
Garthmalack, and Pencoyd (those famous battailes) fought,
That North and South-wales sing, on the West-Sexians wonne.
Scarce this victorious taske his bloodied sword had done,
But at Mount Carno met the Mercians, and with wounds
Made Ethelbald to feele his trespasse on our bounds;
Prevail'd against the Pict, before our force that flew;
And in a valiant fight their King Dalargan slew.
Nor Conan's courage lesse, nor lesse prevail'd in ought
Renowned Rodoricks heire, who with the English fought
The Herefordian Field; as Ruthlands red with gore:
Who, to transfer the warre from this his natiue shore,
Marcht through the Mercian Townes with his reuengefull blade;
And on the English there such mighty hauock made.
That Offa (when he saw his Countries goe to wrack)
From bick'ring with his folke, to keepe vs Britains back,
Cast vp that mighty Mound of eighty miles in length,
Athwart from Sea to Sea. Which of the Mercians strength
A witnesse though it stand, and Offa's name doe beare,
Our courage was the cause why first he cut it there:
As that most dreadful day at Gauelford can tell,
Where vnder eithers sword so many thousands fell
With intermixed blood, that neither knew their owne;
Nor which went Victor thence, vnto this day is knowne.
Nor Kettles conflict then, lesse martiall courage show'd,
Where valiant Mervin met the Mercians, and bestow'd
His nobler British blood on Burthreds recreant flight.
As Rodorick his great sonne, his father following right,
Bare not the Saxons scornes, his Britans to out-braue;
At Gwythen, but againe to Burthred battell gaue;
Twice driuing out the Dane when he invasion brought.
Whose no lesse valiant sonne, againe at Conway fought
With Danes and Mercians mixt, and on their hatefull head
Down-showr'd their dire reuenge whom they had murthered.
And, wer't not that of vs the English would report
(Abusing of our Tongue in most malicious sort
As often-times they doe) that more then any, wee
(The Welsh, as they vs tearme) loue glorifi'd to bee,
Heere could I else recount the slaught'red Saxons gore
Our swords at Crosford spilt on Severns wandring shore;
And Griffith here produce, Lewellins valiant sonne
(May wee belieue our Bards) who fiue pitcht Battels wonne;
And to reuenge the wrongs the envious English wrought,
His well-train'd martiall troupes into the Marches brought
As farre as Wor'ster walls: nor thence did he retire,
Till Powse lay wel-neere spent in our reuengefull fire;
As Hereford layd waste: and from their plentious soyles,
Brought back with him to Wales his prisoners and his spoyles.
Thus as we valiant were, when valour might vs steed:
With those so much that dar'd, wee had them that decreed.
For, what Mulmutian lawes, or Martian, euer were
More excellent then those which our good Howell heere
Ordayn'd to gouerne Wales? which still with vs remaine.
And when all-powerfull Fate had brought to passe againe,
That as the Saxons earst did from the Britains win;
Vpon them so (at last) the Normans comming in,
Tooke from those Tyrants heere, what treacherously they got
(To the perfidious French, which th'angry heauens allot)
Nere could that Conquerors sword (which roughly did decide
His right in England heere, and prostrated her pride)
Vs to subiection stoope, or make vs Britains beare
Th'vnwieldy Norman yoke: nor basely could we feare
His Conquest, entring Wales; but (with stout courage) ours
Defi'd him to his face, with all his English powers.
And when in his revenge, proud Rufus hither came
(With vowes) vs to subvert; with slaughter and with shame,
O're Severn him we sent, to gather stronger ayde.
So, when to Englands power, Albania hers had lay'd,
By Henry Beauclarke brought (for all his diuelish wit,
By which he raught the Wreath) hee not prevail'd a whit:
And through our rugged straits when he so rudely prest,
Had not his proued Maile •ate surely to his breast,
A skilfull British hand his life had him bereft,
As his sterne brothers hart, by Tirrills hand was cleft.
And let the English thus which vilifie our name,
If it their greatnes please, report vnto our shame
The foyle our Gwyneth gaue at Flints so deadly fight,
To Maud the Empresse sonne, that there he put to flight;
And from the English power th'imperiall Ensigne tooke:
About his plumed head which valiant Owen shooke.
As when that King againe, his fortune to advance
Aboue his former foyle, procur'd fresh powers from France,
A surely-leveld shaft if Sent-cleare had not seene,
And in the very loose, not thrust himselfe betweene
His Soueraigne and the shaft, he our reuenge had tri'd:
Thus, to preserue the King, the noble subiect dy'd.
As Madock his braue sonne, may come the rest among;
Who, like the God-like race from which his Grandsires sprong,
Whilst heere his Brothers tyr'd in sad domestick strife,
On their vnnaturall breasts bent eithers murtherous knife;
This braue aduenturous Youth, in hote pursute of fame,
With such as his great spirit did with high deeds inflame,
Put forth his well-rigg'd Fleet to seeke him forraine ground,
And sayled West so long, vntill that world he found
To Christians then vnknowne (saue this adventrous crue)
Long ere Columbus liv'd, or it Vesputius knew;
And put the now-nam'd Welsh on India's parched face,
Vnto the endlesse praise of Brutes renowned race,
Ere the Iberian Powers had toucht her long-sought Bay,
Or any eare had heard the sound of Florida.
And with that Croggens name let th'English vs disgrace;
When there are to be seene, yet, in that ancient place
Frō whence that name they fetch, their cōquer'd Grandsires Graues:
For which each ignorant sot, vniustly vs depraues.
And when that Tyrant Iohn had our subversion vow'd,
To his vnbridled will our necks we neuer bow'd:
Nor to his mightie sonne; whose host wee did inforce
(His succours cutting off) to eate their war-like horse.
Vntill all-ruling Heauen would haue vs to resigne:
When that braue Prince, the last of all the British Line,
Lewellin, Griffiths sonne, vnluckily was slaine,
As Fate had spar'd our fall till Edward Longshanks raigne.
Yet to the stock of Brute so true wee euer were,
We would permit no Prince, vnlesse a natiue here.
Which, that most prudent King perceiuing, wisely thought
To satisfie our wills, and to Carnarvan brought
His Queene be'ing great with child, euen ready downe to lie;
Then to his purpos'd end doth all his powers apply.
Through euery part of Wales hee to the Nobles sent,
That they vnto his Court should come incontinent,
Of things that much concern'd the Country to debate:
But now behold the power of vnauoyded Fate.
When thus vnto his will he fitly them had wonne,
At her expected houre the Queene brought forth a sonne.
And to this great designe, all hapning as he would,
He (his intended course that clearkly manage could)
Thus queintly traines vs on: Since he perceiu'd vs prone
Here onely to be rul'd by Princes of our owne,
Our naturalnes therein he greatly did approue;
And publiquely protests, that for the ancient loue
He euer bare to Wales, they all should plainly see,
That he had found out one, their soueraigne Lord to bee;
Com'n of the race of Kings, and (in their Country borne)
Could not one English word: of which he durst be sworne.
Besides, his vpright heart, and innocence was such,
As that (he was assur'd) blacke Enuie could not •uch
His spotlesse life in ought. Poore we (that not espie
His subtilty herein) in plaine simplicity,
Soone bound ourselues by oath, his choice not to refuse:
When as that craftie King, his little childe doth chuse,
Yong Edward, borne in Wales, and of Carnaruan call'd.
Thus by the English craft, we Britans were enthrall'd:
Yet in thine owne behalfe, deare Country dare to say,
Thou long as powerfull wert as England euery way.
And if she ouermuch should seeke thee to imbase,
Tell her thou art the Nurse of all the British race;
And he that was by heauen appointed to vnite
(After that tedious warre) the red Rose and the white,
A Tudor was of thine, and natiue of thy Mon,
From whom descends that King now sitting on her Throane.
This speech, by Snowdon made, so luckie was to please
Both parties, and them both with such content t'appease;
That as before they stroue for soueraignty and place,
They onely now contend, which most should other grace.
Into the Irish Sea, then all those Rilles that ronne,
In Snowdons praise to speake, immediatly begon;
Lewenny, Lynan next, then Gwelly gaue it out,
And Kerriog her compeere, soone told it all about:
So did their sister Nymphs, that into Mena straine;
The flood that doth diuide Mon from the Cambrian Maine.
It Gorway greatly prais'd, and Seint it lowdly song.
So, mighty Snowdons speech was through Carnaruan rong;
That scarcely such a noise to Mon from Mena came,
When with his puissant troupes for conquest of the same,
On Bridges made of Boates, the Roman powers her sought,
Or Edward to her sacke his English Armies brought:
That Mona strangely stird great Snowdons praise to heare,
Although the stock of Troy to her was euer deare;
Yet (from her proper worth) as shee before all other
Was call'd (in former times) her Country Cambria's mother,
Perswaded was thereby her praises to pursue,
Or by neglect, to lose what to her selfe was due,
A signe to Neptune sent, his boystrous rage to slake;
Which suddainly becalm'd, thus of her selfe she spake;
What one of all the Iles to Cambria doth belong
(To Britaine, I might say, and yet not doe her wrong)
Doth equall me in soyle, so good for grasse and graine?
As should my Wales (where still Brutes ofspring doth remaine)
That mighty store of men, yet more of beasts doth breed,
By famine of by warre constrained be to need,
And Englands neighboring Shires their succour would denie;
My onely selfe her wants could plentiously supply.
What Iland is there sound vpon the Irish coast,
In which that Kingdome seemes to be delighted most
(And seeke you all along the rough Vergiuian shore,
Where the incountring tydes outrageously doe rore)
That bowes not at my beck, as they to me did owe
The dutie subiects should vnto their Soueraigne showe;
So that th'Eubonian Man, a kingdome long time knowne,
Which wisely hath been rul'd by Princes of her owne,
In my alliance ioyes, as in th'Albanian Seas
The Arrans, and by them the scatt'red Eubides
Reioyce euen at my name; and put on mirthfull cheere,
When of my good estate, they by the Sea-Nymphs heare.
Sometimes within my shades, in many an ancient wood,
Whose often-twined tops, great Phoebus fires withstood,
The fearelesse British Priests, vnder an aged Oake,
Taking a milk-white Bull, vnstrained with the yoke,
And with an Axe of gold, from that Ioue-sacred tree
The Missleto cut downe; then with a bended knee
On th'vnhew'd Altar layd, put to the hallowed fires:
And whilst in the sharpe flame the trembling flesh expires,
As their strong furie mou'd (when all the rest adore)
Pronouncing their desires the sacrifice before,
Vp to th'eternall heauen their bloodied hands did reare:
And, whilst the murmuring woods euen shuddred as with feare,
Preacht to the beardlesse youth, the soules immortall state;
To other bodies still how it should transmigrate,
That to contempt of death them strongly might excite.
To dwell in my blacke shades the Wood-gods did delight,
Vntroden with resort that long so gloomy were,
As when the Roman came, it strooke him sad with feare
To looke vpon my face, which then was call'd the Darke;
Vntill in after time, the English for a marke
Gaue me this hatefull name, which I must euer beare,
And Anglesey from them am called euery where.
My Brooks (to whose sweet brimmes the Syluans did resort,
In glyding through my shades, to mightie Neptunes Court,
Of their huge Oakes bereft) to heauen so open lie,
That now ther's not a roote discern'd by any eye:
My Brent, a pretty Beck, attending Menas mouth,
With those her sister Rills, that beare vpon the South,
Guint, forth along with her Lewenny that doth draw;
And next to them againe, the fat and moory Frawe,
Which with my Princes Court I some-time pleas'd to grace,
As those that to the West directly runne their race.
Smooth Allo in her fall, that Lynon in doth take;
Mathanon, that amaine doth tow'rds Moylroniad make,
The Sea-calfes to behold that bleach them on her shore,
Which Gweger to her gets, as to increase her store.
Then Dulas to the North that straineth, as to see
The Ile that breedeth Mice: whose store so lothsome bee,
That shee in Neptunes brack her blewish head doth hide.
When now the wearied Muse her burthen hauing ply'd,
Her selfe a while betakes to bathe her in the Sound;
And quitting in her course the goodly Monian ground,
Assayes the Penmenmaur, and her cleere eyes doth throwe
On Conway, tow'rds the East, to England back to goe:
Where finding Denbigh fayre, and Flint not out of sight,
Cryes yet afresh for Wales, and for Brutes ancient right.