with the
genius of Myrddin; {18a} that I may extol the praise of heroes, like
Aneurin, {18b} in the day he sung his celebrated Gododin; that I may set
forth the happiness of the inhabitants of Venedotia, the noble and
prosperous prince of Gwynedd, the stay and prop of his fair and pleasant
country. He is manly and heroic in the battle, his fame overspreadeth
the country about the mountain of Breiddin. {18c} Since God created the
first man, there never was his equal in the front of battle. Llewelyn
the generous, of the race of princes, has struck terror and astonishment
in the heart of kings. When he strove for superiority with Loegria's
king, when he was wasting the country of Erbin, {18d} his troops were
valiant and numerous. Great was the confusion when the shout was given,
his sword was bathed in blood; proud were his nobles to see his army;
when they heard the clashing of swords, then was felt the agony of wounds
{18e} - - - - - Many were the gashes in the conflict of war. Great was
the confusion of the Saxons about the ditch of Knocking. {19a} The sword
was broke in the hand of the warrior. Heads were covered with wounds,
and the flood of human gore gushed in streams down the knees.

Llewelyn's empire is wide extended, he is renowned as far as Porth
Ysgewin. {19b} Constantine was not his equal in undergoing hardships.
Had I arrived to the height of prophecy, and the great gift of ancient
poesy, I could not relate his prowess in action; no, Taliesin {19c}
himself was unequal to the task. Before he finishes his course in this
world, after he has lived a long life on earth, ere he goes to the deep
and bone-bestrewed grave, ere the green herb grows over his tomb, may He
that turned the water into wine, grant that he may have the Almighty's
protection, and that for every sin, with which he hath been stained, he
may receive remission. May Llewelyn, the noble and generous, never be
confounded or ashamed when he arrives at that period; and may he be under
the protection of the saints.

A POEM

_To Llewelyn the Great_, _composed by Einion the son of Gwgan_, _about_
1244.

I invoke the assistance of the God of Heaven, Christ our Saviour, whom to
neglect is impious. That gift is true which descendeth from above. The
gifts that are given me are immortal, to discern, according to the great
apostle, _what is right and decent_; and, among other grand subjects, to
celebrate my prince, who avoids not the bat