FOR CHILDREN. 121

And to the hilt his vengeful sword
He plunged in Gelert’s side.

His suppliant look, as prone? he fell,
No pity could impart;

Yet mournfully his dying yell
Sank in Llewellyn’s heart.

Aroused by Gelert’s dying yell .
Some slumberer wakened nigh—
What words the parent’s joy can tell, .
To hear his infant cry !
Concealed amidst a mingled heap
His hurried search had missed,
All glowing from his rosy sleep,
His cherub boy he kissed !

Nor wound had he, nor harm, nor dreac :
But, the same couch beneath,

Lay a great wolf,? all torn and dgad,—
Tremendous still in death !

Ah! what was then Llewellyn’s pain?
For now the truth was clear,

The gallant hound the wolf had slain,
And saved Llewellyn’s heir.

Vain, vain was all Llewellyn’s woe:

« Best of thy kind, adieu!

The frantic deed which laid thee low,
This heart shall ever rue !"5

1 Prone—headlong.
4 Wolf—wolves were at this time numerous and formids-
ble in North Wales.
* Rue—regret, lament,
M