Each billow bears me nearer to the verge Of realms where she is not--where love must wait. If Gelert, there, could hear, no need to urge That friend, so faithful, true, affectionate, To come and help me, or to share my fate. Ah! surely I see him springing through the surge. [_The dog, plunging into the tide and striking towards his master with immense strength, reaches him and swims round him._] Oh, Gelert, strong of wind and strong of paw, Here gazing like your namesake, 'Snowdon's Hound,' When great Llewelyn's child could not be found, And all the warriors stood in speechless awe-- Mute as your namesake when his master saw The cradle tossed--the rushes red around-- With never a word, but only a whimpering sound To tell what meant the blood on lip and jaw! In such a strait, to aid this gaze so fond, Should I, brave friend, have needed other speech Than this dear whimper? Is there not a bond Stronger than words that binds us each to each?-- But Death has caught us both. 'Tis far beyond The strength of man or dog to win the beach. Through tangle-weed--through coils of slippery kelp Decking your shaggy forehead, those brave eyes Shine true--shine deep of love's divine surmise As hers who gave you--then a Titan whelp!-- I think you know my danger and would help!-- See how I point to yonder smack that lies At anchor--Go! His countenance replies. Hope's music rings in Gelert's eager yelp! [_The dog swims swiftly away down the tide._] Now, life and love and death swim out with him! If he should reach the smack, the men will guess The dog has left his master in distress. She taught him in these very waves to swim-- 'The prince of pups,' she said, 'for wind and limb'-- And now those lessons come to save--to bless. ENVOY (_The day after the rescue: Gelert and his master walking along the sand._) 'Twas in no glittering tourney's mimic strife,-- 'Twas in that bloody fight in Raxton Grove, While hungry ravens croaked from boughs above, And frightened blackbirds shrilled the warning fife-- 'Twas there, in days when Friendship still was rife. Mine ancestor who threw the challenge-glove Conquered and found his foe a soul to love, Found friendship--Life's great second crown of life. So I this morning love our North Sea more Because he fought me well, because these waves Now weaving sunbows for us by the shore Strove with me, tossed me in those emerald caves That yawned above my head like conscious graves-- I love him as I never loved before. PREFACE TO THIS EDITION