This was not so successful as the former, but Twm, nothing daunted, sung the following which he called a sequel to the last. ROSY GWEN. Rosy Gwen, rosy Gwen, Beloved of maids, beloved of men! Aye, dearly loved of grave and gay, Of sire, sage, and matron grey! In youth’s early day—ah what cheer’d me then! ’Twas her voice so sweet, Her person neat, Her form so sleek, Her spirit meek, And the cherry-merry cheek of Rosy Gwen. Gentle girl, gentle girl, Coral lipp’d, with teeth of pearl, On either cheek a vivid rose. And raven tresses graced thy brows! Ah thou wert my love and my playmate then: Happy lass of smiles, Unversed in wiles Of guileless breast— Of minds the best, Oh my cherry-merry cheek’d young Rosy Gwen! Years have flown, years have flown, And Gwenny thou’rt a woman grown. While Time, that bears for most a sting, Has fann’d thy beauties with his wing; Yet brighter, thou canst not be, than when O’er the mountain steep Thou drov’st thy sheep And sang in glee A child with me. Oh my cherry-merry cheek’d young Rosy Gwen. He gave them next a love canzonet, of two verses; the first slow and mournful, and the last with contrasting animation and cheerfulness. Her cheek was a rose lowly crush’d by the dew, Now bleach’d by despair to the lily’s pale hue For the death of young Morgan the brave; Fame widely reported sea-mews scream’d his knell. As in a dread sea-fight with glory he fell, And was buried beneath thy salt wave. But false was the tale, for a victor was he, Triumphant return’d from the wild roaring sea, Now to seek with his dear maid repose; He flew to his Sina with extacy’s zest, Enraptured he press’d the lorn maid to his breast. And then kiss’d off the dew from the rose. The two last were but tolerated, and the singer soon found that a merry strain was most congenial to their fancies. He therefore gave them the old and popular duet of “Hob y deri dando,” rendered more comical by his singing alternately shrill and gruff, for male and female’s parts. HOB Y DERI DANDO {138} _Ivor_. The summer storm is on the mountain, Hob y deri dando, my sweet maid! _Gweno_. And foul the stream, though bright the fountain, Hob y deri dando, for the shade. _Ivor_. Let my mantle love protect thee, Gentle Gweno dear; _Gweno_. Ivor kind will ne’er neglect me, Faithful far and near: _Both_. Through life the hue of first love true, Will never never fade. * * * * * _Ivor_. The rain is past, the clouds are gone too, Hob o’r deri dando, far they spread;