“It was customary with the young man whenever he reached this spot, to tie his hankerchief to the end of a rod, that he held as a flag-staff, which was immediately seen by the heiress of Maes-y-velin; and when she could succeed in getting her brothers out of the way, the signal of love was answered by hoisting her own kerchief to the branch of a tree above the house, on which, both ran down from their respective hills, till they stood face to face on either side of the Teivy, when the fond lover soon dashed into the river, crossed over and caught the fair one in his arms. But as these things sound better perhaps in verse, I shall submit to you a specimen of my skill at Ballad writing, in one that I have written on this occasion.” With that they took their seat on a huge stone on the side of the hill, when Rhys drew a manuscript from his pocket and read to his attentive auditor. THE HEIRESS OF MAES-Y-FELIN, AND The flower of Llandovery. What is amiss with the maiden fair, What is the sweet one ailing?— Why pale her cheek, and her spirits low, And why up the hill doth she daily go, The heiress of Maes-y-velin?— Why are the brows of her brothers dark? Nor mother nor sire hath Ellen;— Her brothers whisper—her steps they watch— The heart of her mystery eager to catch, The maiden of Maes-y-velin. The parents of Ellen her merits knew, And frown’d on her brothers’ vices; Her brothers are disinherited, And Ellen is heiress in either’s stead; Thereat all the land rejoices. Her brothers one day went out to hunt, And alone at home left Ellen; She watched them away, then flew to her bower, And cried “oh now for Llandovery’s Flower! Right welcome to Maes-y-velin.” She hoisted her silken kerchief red To the highest branch of her bower, To Pen-garreg hill then strain’d her eyes, And the flag of her hope was seen to rise, ’Twas thine, oh Llandovery’s Flower! Long had he watch’d—the faithful youth! His wish each day unavailing, At length, he sees with a wild delight, His true love’s signal, the lady bright, The heiress of Maes-y-velin. That signal was chosen between the twain, When absent her stern proud kindred; And then would they rush from either hill, The lover’s true with a right good will, Till the waters of Teivy sunder’d. Now as erst they rush’d, and as erst they paused, When arrived on the banks of Teivy, They gazed on each other across the stream, And gestured affection’s high glow supreme, And gayer their hearts, long heavy. In plung’d the youth with most anxious speed, The Flower of fair Llandovery, The maiden is trembling with wild alarms— She brightens—she sinks in her true-love’s arms, Deem’d lost to her past recovery.