The Poetry of Wales Part 1

The Poetry of Wales.

by John Jenkins.

PREFACE.

The Editor of this little Collection ventures to think it may in some measure supply a want which he has heard mentioned, not only in the Princ.i.p.ality, but in England also. Some of the Editor's English friends--themselves being eminent in literature--have said to him, "We have often heard that there is much of value in your literature and of beauty in your poetry. Why does not some one of your literati translate them into English, and furnish us with the means of judging for ourselves? We possess translated specimens of the literature, and especially the poetry of almost every other nation and people, and should feel greater interest in reading those of the aborigines of this country, with whom we have so much in common." It was to gratify this wish that the Editor was induced to give his services in the present undertaking, from which he has received and will receive no pecuniary benefit; and his sole recompense will be the satisfaction of having attempted to extend and perpetuate some of the treasures and beauties of the literature of his native country.

INTRODUCTION.

The literature of a people always reflects their character. You may discover in the prose and poetry of a nation its social condition, and in their different phases its political progress. The age of Homer was the heroic, in which the Greeks excelled in martial exploits; that of Virgil found the Romans an intellectual and gallant race; the genius of Chaucer, Spencer and Sidney revelled in the feudal halls and enchanted vistas of the middle ages; Shakespeare delineated the British mind in its grave and comic moods; Milton reflected the sober aspect and spiritual aspirations of the Puritanical era; while at later periods Pope, Goldsmith and Cowper pourtrayed the softer features of an advanced civilization and milder times.

Following the same rule, the history of Wales is its literature. First came the odes and triads, in which the bards recited the valour, conquests and hospitality of their chieftains, and the gentleness, beauty and virtue of their brides. This was the age of Aneurin, of Taliesin and Llywarch Hen. Next came the period of love and romance, wherein were celebrated the refined courtship and gay bridals of gallant knights and lovely maids. This was the age of Dafydd ap Gwilym, of Hywel ap Einion and Rhys Goch. In later times appeared the moral songs and religious hymns of the Welsh Puritans, wherein was conspicuous above all others William Williams of Pantycelyn, aptly denominated "The Sweet Psalmist of Wales."

The Princ.i.p.ality, like every other country, has had and has its orators, its philosophers and historians; and, much as they are prized by its native race, we venture to predict that the productions of none will outlive the language in which their prose is spoken and writ. Not that there is wanting either eloquence or grandeur or force in their orations and essays, depth or originality in their philosophical theories, or truthfulness, research or learning in their historic lore; but that neither the graces of the first, the novelty of the next, or the fidelity of the last will in our opinion justify a translation into more widely spoken tongues, and be read with profit and interest by a people whose libraries are filled with all that is most charming in literature, most profound in philosophy and most new and advanced in science and art.

Our evil prophecy of its prose does not however extend to the poetry of Wales, for like all other branches of the Celtic race, the ancient Britons have cultivated national song and music with a love, skill and devotion which have produced poems and airs well deserving of extensive circulation, long life and lasting fame. The poetic fire has inspired the nation from the most primitive times, for we find that an order of the Druidical priests were bards who composed their metres among aboriginal temples and spreading groves of oak. The bard was an important member of the royal household, for the court was not complete without the Bard President, the Chief of Song, and the Domestic Bard. The laws of Hywel the Good, King or Prince of Wales in the tenth century, enact:--

"If there should be fighting, the bard shall sing 'The Monarchy of Britain' in front of the battle."

"The Bard President shall sit at the Royal Table."

"When a bard shall ask a gift of a prince, let him sing one piece; when he asks of a baron, let him sing three pieces."

"His land shall be free, and he shall have a horse in attendance from the king."

"The Chief of Song shall begin the singing in the common hall."

"He shall be next but one to the patron of the family."

"He shall have a harp from the king, and a gold ring from the queen when his office is secured to him. The harp he shall never part with."

"When a song is called for, the Bard President should begin; the first song shall be addressed to G.o.d, the next to the king. The Domestic Bard shall sing to the queen and royal household."

The bard therefore in ancient times performed important functions. In peace he delighted his lord with songs of chivalry, love and friendship.

In war he accompanied his prince to battle, and recited the might and prowess of his leader and the martial virtue of his hosts. No court or hall was complete without the presence of the bard, who enlivened the feast with his minstrelsy and song. We also see that the Welsh bard, like the primitive poets of Greece, and the troubadours of southern France, sang his verses to the harp, whose dulcet strings have always sent forth the national melodies. The chief bards were attached to the courts and castles of their princes and chieftains; but a mult.i.tude of inferior minstrels wandered the country singing to their harps, and were in those primitive times received with open arms and welcome hospitality in the houses of the gentry, and whither soever they went. Even within living memory the English tourist has often met in the lonely dells and among the mountain pa.s.ses of Wales the wayworn minstrel, with harp strung to his shoulders, ever ready to delight the traveller with the bewitching notes of his lyre and song. But the modern bard of Wales is the counterpart of his Scottish brother, of whom Scott wrote:--

"The way was long, the wind was cold, The minstrel was infirm and old; His withered cheeks and tresses gray Seemed to have known a better day; The harp, his sole remaining joy, Was carried by an orphan boy.

No more on prancing palfry borne, He carolled light as lark at morn; No longer courted and caress'd, High placed in hall, a welcome guest, He poured to lord and lady gay The unpremeditated lay."

Nor will the modern visitor to the castles and halls of the Princ.i.p.ality, not to mention its princ.i.p.al hotels, often miss the dulcet strains of the national lyre.

The song and minstrelsy of Wales have from the earliest period of its history been nurtured by its eisteddfodau. It is ascertained that the Prince Bleddyn ap Kynfyn held an eisteddfod in A.D. 1070, which was attended by the bards and chief literati of the time. This eisteddfod made rules for the better government of the bardic order. This annual a.s.semblage of princes, bards and literati has been regularly held through the intervening centuries to the present time. Within living memory royalty has graced this national gathering of the ancient British race.

The ceremonies attendant upon this national inst.i.tution are well known.

The president or chief, followed by the various grades of the bardic order, walk in procession (_gorymdaith_) to the place appointed, where twelve stones are laid in a circle, with one in the centre, to form a _gorsedd_ or throne. When the whole order is a.s.sembled, the chief of bards ascends the _gorsedd_, and from his laurel and flower-bedecked chair opens the session, by repeating aloud the mottoes of the order, viz.: "_Y gwir yn erbyn y byd_, _yn ngwyneb haul a llygad goleuni_," or "The truth against the world, in the face of the sun and the eye of light," meaning that the proceedings, judgments and awards of the order are guided by unswerving truth, and conducted in an open forum beneath the eyes of the public. Then follow verses laudatory of the president.

Poetical compositions, some of a very high order, are then rehea.r.s.ed or read, interspersed with singing and lyric music. The greater part of the poets and musical performers compete for prizes on given subjects, which are announced beforehand on large placards throughout the Princ.i.p.ality.

The subjects for compet.i.tion are for the most part patriotic, but religion and loyalty are supreme throughout the eisteddfod. The successful compet.i.tors are crowned or decorated by the fair hands of lady patronesses, who distribute the prizes. This yearly gathering of the rank, beauty, wealth and talent of the Princ.i.p.ality, to commemorate their nationality and foster native genius, edified and delighted by the gems of Welsh oratory, music and song, cannot but be a laudable inst.i.tution as well as pleasant recreation. Some of the foremost English journals, who devote columns of their best narrative talent to record a horse race, a Scottish highland wrestle, or hideous prize fight with all their accompaniments of vice and brutality, may surely well spare the ridicule and contempt with which they visit the pleasant Welsh eisteddfod. Their shafts, howsoever they may irritate for the time, ought surely not to lower the Welshman's estimate of his eisteddfod, seeing the antiquity of its origin, the praiseworthiness of its objects, the good it has done, the talent it has developed,--as witness, a Brinley Richards and Edith Wynne,--and the delight it affords to his country people. Enveloped in the panoply of patriotism, truth and goodness, he may well defy the harmless darts of angry criticism and invective, emanating from writers who are foreign in blood, language, sympathy and taste. When the Greeks delighted in their olympic games of running for a laurel crown, the Romans witnessed with savage pleasure the deadly contentions of their gladiators, the Spaniards gazed with joy on their b.l.o.o.d.y bull fights, and the English crowded to look at the horse race or prize fight, the Cymry met peaceably in the recesses of their beautiful valleys and mountains to rehea.r.s.e the praises of religion and virtue, to sing the merits of beauty, truth and goodness, and all heightened by the melodious strains of their national lyre.

It is often asked, what is poetry? Prose, we a.s.sume to be a simple or connected narrative of ordinary facts or common circ.u.mstances. Poetry, on the other hand, is a grouping of great, grand or beautiful objects in nature, or of fierce, fine or lofty pa.s.sions, or beautiful sentiments, or pretty ideas of the human heart or mind, and all these premises expressed in suitable or becoming language. Poetry is most indulged in the infancy of society when nature is a sealed book, and the uneducated mind fills creation with all sorts of beings and phantoms. There is then wide scope for the rude imagination to wander at will through the unknown universe, and to people it with every description of mythical beings and superst.i.tious objects. Poetry is most powerful in the infancy of civilization, and enjoys a license of idea and language which would shock the taste of more advanced times. The Hindustani poetry as furnished by Sir William Jones, that of the Persian Hafiz, the early ballads of the Arabians, Moors and Spaniards, the poems of Ossian, besides the primitive Saxon ballads, and the triads of Wales, all indicate the extravagant imagery and rude license of poetry in the early ages of society. The history of those several nations also attests the magical influence of their early poetry upon the peoples. We find that Tallifer the Norman trouvere, who accompanied William to the invasion of England, went before his hosts at Hastings, reciting the Norman prowess and might, and flung himself upon the Saxon phalanx where he met his doom. We read that the example of the trouvere aroused the Norman hosts to an enthusiasm which precipitated them upon the Saxon ranks with unwonted courage and frenzy.

We also find that the Welsh bard always accompanied his prince to battle, and rehea.r.s.ed in song the ancient valour and conquests of the chieftain and army in front of the enemy.

The progress of philosophy and science dissipates the myths and spectres of the poetical creation, just as the advance of a July sun dispels the mist and cloud which hung over the earlier hours of day and veiled the mountains and valleys from the eye of man. Poetry becomes now shorn of its greatest extravangancies and wildest flights, instead of soaring with the eagle to the extremities of s.p.a.ce, it flies like the falcon within human sight. In lieu of a Homer, a Shakespeare and a Milton, we have a Pope, a Thomson and a Campbell.

The poetry of Wales may be cla.s.sified into six parts, viz.: the sublime, the beautiful, the patriotic, the humourous, the sentimental and religious. Much of the poetry of the Princ.i.p.ality consists of the first cla.s.s, and is specially dedicated to description and praise of the Supreme Being, the universe and man. As the great objects of creation, like the sun and moon, the planetary world and stars first attract the attention of man and always enlist his deepest feelings, so they furnish the great themes for the poetry of all nations, more especially in its ruder stages. The Welsh poet is no exception to the rule. On the contrary, he indulges in the highest flights of imagination, and borrows the grandest imagery and choicest description to set forth the Most High and his wonderful works. No translation can convey to the English reader the interest and effect which this cla.s.s of poetry has and produces upon the Welsh mind, simply because their trains of thought are so entirely different. The power and expressiveness of the Welsh language, which cannot be transferred into any English words, also add materially to the effect of this cla.s.s of poetry upon the native mind. The Cymric is unquestionably an original language, and possesses a force and expression entirely unknown to any of the derivative tongues. The finer parts of scripture, as the Book of Job and the Psalms, are immeasurably more impressive in the Welsh than English language. The native of the Princ.i.p.ality, who from a long residence in the metropolis or other parts of England, and extensive acquaintance with its people, followed often by mercantile success, so as almost to become Anglicised, no sooner returns to his native hills, either for a visit or residence, and upon the Sabbath morn enters the old parish church or chapel to hear the bible read in the native tongue, than he feels a transport of delight and joy, to which his heart has been foreign since he crossed the border, mayhap in youth. Much of this may be owing to a cause similar to that which fires the Swiss soldier on foreign service when he hears the chant of his own mountain "_Rans des vaches_." Something may doubtless be laid to the account of early a.s.sociation; but, we think, more is justly due to the great impressiveness and power of his native tongue. The poems, original and translated, contained in the first part of the ensuing collection, may convey to the English reader some idea of this cla.s.s of Welsh poetry.

The love of the beautiful is natural to man, but of all nations the Greeks entertained the best ideals and cultivated the faculty to the highest perfection. Their temples have formed models of architectural beauty for all nations, and the grace and elegance of their statuary have found students among every people. Much of this taste for the beautiful mingled with their poetry, which is kin sister to the imitative arts. In recent times the Italians have inherited the faculty of beauty, and introduced it into their fine cathedrals and capitols, as well as their statuary. The French also have displayed the highest ideals of beauty in their manufactures and fine arts. The Spaniards have introduced into their poetry some of the inimitable grace and beauty of their Alhambra.

The Latin races appear in modern times to have been pre-distinguished in the fine arts. Much of the taste for beauty is inherent in the Celtic races, and this element is very perceptible in the poetry of the Cymric branch, as will appear from the ill.u.s.trations contained in the second part of this collection.

Patriotism, or love of country, is characteristic of all nations, and manifests itself in their poetical effusions, more especially of the earlier date. It is but natural that man should feel a profound attachment to the land of his fathers, to the valley where he spent the early and happier years of his life, to the hills which bounded that plain, to the church or chapel where he worshipped in youth, and in whose cemetery rest the ashes of his kin, to the language of his childhood, its literature, history and traditions, and more especially to the kind family, neighbours and friends who watched over his infancy, and entertained his maturer years. This attachment, which is no other than patriotism, is only deepened by his removal into a distant land, and among a strange people. Perhaps no people in modern times have cultivated their patriotic songs more ardently or even more successfully than the Scotch; though probably most of this may be owing to their great minstrel Scott, who transformed their rude ballads into immortal song.

Moore did a similar, though smaller, service for the Irish branch of the Celtic race. And we most truly think that a Welsh Scott or Moore is only wanting to marry the lays of Wales to undying verse. The third part of this collection will contain some of the most spirited of the patriotic poems of Wales.

Humour is inherent in every people, and is more or less characteristic of every nation. Cervantes among the Spaniards, the Abbate Casti among the Italians, Jean Paul Richter among the Germans, Voltaire among the French, Samuel Butler, the author of Hudibras, and Dr. John Wolcot among the English, Jonathan Swift among the Irish, and Robert Burns among the Scotch, have introduced humorous writing into the literature of their respective countries with more or less of success. Nor was it possible that a people so lively, so susceptible of contrast, and possessed of so keen a sense of the ridiculous in manners and conversation as the Welsh, should not spice their literature with examples of humorous writing. We shall furnish in the fourth part of this collection a few specimens from the writings of some of the humorists of Wales.

Sentiment, which may be defined as the emotion of the human heart, mixes freely in verse and sentimental poetry, forms a considerable portion of the lays of every country. There is in this particular no distinction between the early and modern history of nations, for sentiment enters the metrical effusions of every period alike. Pathos and taste appear to be the foster mothers of this quality, which is a distinguishing trait of the poetry of Wales, as shown by the examples furnished in the fifth part of this collection.

If any trait be more distinctive of the Welshman than another, it is his love for his bible, his chapel and church, and this has furnished the richest store of spiritual song. The hymnists of Wales are many; but distinguished beyond and above every other, is the celebrated Williams of Pantycelyn, whose hymns are sung in every chapel and cottage throughout the Princ.i.p.ality, and are now as refreshing to the religious tastes and emotions of the people as at their first appearance; and, from their intrinsic beauty and warmth, they are not likely to be lost so long as the Welsh language remains a spoken or written tongue. The sixth part of this collection will furnish the reader with an insight into the transcendent merit and fervour of this prince of religious song.

PART I. THE SUBLIME.

SNOWDON.

King of the mighty hills! thy crown of snow Thou rearest in the clouds, as if to mock The littleness of human things below; The tempest cannot harm thee, and the shock Of the deep thunder falls upon thy head As the light footfalls of an infant's tread.

The livid lightning's all destroying flame Has flashed upon thee harmlessly, the rage Of savage storms have left thee still the same; Thou art imperishable! Age after age Thou hast endured; aye, and for evermore Thy form shall be as changeless as before.

The works of man shall perish and decay, Cities shall crumble down to dust, and all Their "gorgeous palaces" shall pa.s.s away; Even their lofty monuments shall fall; And a few scattered stones be all to tell The place where once they stood,--where since they fell!

Yet, even time has not the power to shiver One single fragment from thee; thou shalt be A monument that shall exist for ever!

While the vast world endures in its immensity, The eternal snows that gather on thy brow Shall diadem thy crest, as they do now.

Thy head is wrapt in mists, yet still thou gleam'st, At intervals, from out the clouds, that are A glorious canopy, in which thou seem'st To shroud thy many beauties; now afar Thou glitterest in the sun, and dost unfold Thy giant form, in robes of burning gold.

And, when the red day dawned upon thee, oh! how bright Thy mighty form appeared! a thousand dies Shed o'er thee all the brilliance of their light, Catching their hues from the o'er-arching skies, That seemed to play around thee, like a dress Sporting around some form of loveliness.

And when the silver moonbeams on thee threw Their calm and tranquil light, thou seem'st to be A thing so wildly beautiful to view, So wrapt in strange unearthly mystery, That the mind feels an awful sense of fear When gazing on thy form, so wild and drear.