Welsh literature -- 18th century; Welsh literature -- Translations into English; Wynne, Ellis, 1671-1734
On {1a} the fine evening of a warm and mellow summer I betook me up one
of the mountains of Wales, {1b} spy-glass in hand, to enable my feeble
sight to see the distant near, and to make the little to loom large.
Through the clear, tenuous air and the calm, shimmering heat, I beheld
far, far away over the Irish Sea many a fair scene. At last, when mine
eyes had taken their fill of all the beauty around me, and the sun well
nigh had reached his western ramparts, I lay down on the sward, musing
how fair and lovely compared with mine own land were the distant lands of
whose delightful plains I had just obtained a glimpse; how fine it would
be to have full view thereof, and how happy withal are they, besides me
and my sort, who have seen the world’s course. So, from the long
journeying of mine eye, and afterwards of my mind, came weariness, and
beneath the cloak of weariness came my good Master Sleep {1c} stealthily
to bind me, and with his leaden keys safe and sound he locked the windows
of mine eyes and all mine other senses. But it was in vain he tried to
lock up the soul which can exist and travel without the body; for upon
the wings of fancy my spirit soared free from out the straitened corpse,
and the first thing I perceived close by was a dancing-knoll and such a
fantastic rout {4a} in blue petticoats and red caps, briskly footing a
sprightly dance. I stood awhile hesitating whether I should approach
them or not, for in my confusion I feared they were a pack of hungry
gipsies and that the least they would do, would be to kill me for their
supper, and devour me saltless. But gazing steadfastly upon them I
perceived that they were of better and fairer complexion than that lying,
tawny crew; so I plucked up courage and drew near them, slowly, like a
hen treading on hot coals, in order to find out what they might be; and
at last I addressed them over my shoulder, thus, “Pray you, good friends,
I understand that ye come from afar, would ye take into your midst a bard
who wishes to travel?” Whereupon the din instantly ceased, every eye was
turned upon me, and in shrill tones “a bard” quoth one, “to travel,” said
another, “into our midst,” a third exclaimed. By then I had recognised
those who were looking at me most fiercely, and they commenced whispering
one to another some secret charms, still keeping their gaze upon me; the
hubbub then broke out again and everyone laying hands upon me, lifted me
shoulder-high, like a knight of the shire, and off like the wind we go,
over houses and lands, cities and realms, seas and mountains, unable to
notice aught so swiftly were they flying. And to make matters worse, I
began to have doubts of my companions from the way they frowned and
scowled when I refused to lampoon my king {4b} at their bidding.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account