s preparing to solace
Her stay with a song amid the fair scene,
Nor long was I left in suspense of her object,
Before she broke forth with a melody clean;
The tears she would wipe away with her napkin,
While often a sigh would escape from her breast,
And as she sent forth the notes of her mourning,
I could find that to love the lay was address'd:

"Four summers have pass'd since I lost my sweet William,
And from this fair valley he mournful did go;
Four autumns have shower'd their leaves on the meadows
Since he on these eyelids a smile did bestow;
Four winters have sped with their snowflakes and tempest
Since he by my side did sing a light glee;
But many more springs will be sown for the harvest
Ere William revisit the banks of the Dee."

GWILYM GLYN AND RUTH OF DYFFRYN.

In the depth of yonder valley,
Where the fields are bright and sunny,
Ruth was nurtured fair and slender
Neath a mother's eye so tender.

Listening to the thrush's carols.
Was her pleasure in her gambols,
And ere she grew up a maiden
Gwilym's voice was sweet in Dyffryn.

Together did they play in childhood,
Together ramble in the greenwood,
Together dance upon the meadow,
Together pluck the primrose yellow.

Both grew up in youthful beauty
On the lap of peace and plenty,
And before they could discover
Love had linked its silent fetter.

Ruth had riches--not so Gwilym,
Her stern sire grew cold unto him,
And at length forbade him coming
Any more to visit Dyffryn.

Gwilym thence would roam the wild-wood,
Where he wander'd in his childhood,
And would shun his home and hamlet,
Pensive sitting in the thicket.

Ruth would, weeping, walk the garden,
And survey the blank horizon
For a passing glimpse of Gwilym--
But all vain her tears and wailing.

Gwilym said, "I'll cross the ocean,
And abide among the heathen,
In the hope of getting riches,
Which alone the father pleases."

But, before he left his country,
Once, by stealth, he met the lady,
And beneath the beech's shadow
Vow'd undying love in sorrow.

Much the weeping--sad the sighing,
When they parted in the gloaming,
Gwilym for a distant region,
Ruth behind in desolation.

Time flew fast, and many a wooer
Came to Ruth an ardent lover;
But in vain they sought the maiden,
For she held her troth unbroken.

Owain Wynn had wealth in plenty,
Earnest was his deep entreaty,
And tho' favour'd by the father,
Yet all vain was his endeavour.

Year