Yn fardd os chwi a fyn fod,—o hirddysg I harddu Eisteddfod, I hwylio clêr2 a hel clod, Ceisiwch yr holl drec isod: Hyd rhaff rawn o lawn linyn-y seiri A rhasgl a dyr bob rhisglyn, budreddi, ac onide, na buasai bossibl iddo oddef blas ac archwaeth budreddi ei ymadrodd ei hun. ** ** One would expect that a person so very fond of giving affronts, would be as willing, or at least able, to bear them in return; but he is not. One would scorn to be the aggressor; but if I am attacked, I may and must repel force with force; and se defendendo is a good plea, whatever be the event. That was my case then, and I have many times afterwards blamed my curiosity for taking notice of such an empty fellow." In another letter dated,-Walton, January 21, 1755, Goronwy again writes :-"Tân a'm twymo, onid digrif o gorphyn yw Elisa Gowper. Mae 'n sicr genyf ped fuasai 'r hychrug arnaf, yn lle 'r cryd poeth, na buasai raid im' wrth amgen meddyginiaeth nog Englynion Elis. * * * * 'R wy 'n dyall wrth Elisa ei fod wedi canu o'r blaen, ac wedi cael rhyw atteb gan y Coch, neu ryw un arall trosto. Mawr nad ellid cael golwg ar y cyfan. Dyma'r englynion diniweit iaf a wnaeth Elis erioed; rhyfedd fedru o hono gymmeryd y fath Ortho. Yr oeddwn yn disgwyl gweled rhyw eiriau cegddu, megys, ****** fel y byddai 'n arfer o yru at fab Clochyddyn Llandyfrog. Brwnt a fyddai canu 'n hyll i Elis, ac yntau ei hun mor ddu ei foes a'i araeth. Mae, fel y dyfeisioch, ryw ffordd ddirgel i yru hyn o Englynion i Elisa. 'R wy 'n tybio mai 'r ffordd oreu fyddai eu rhoi i ryw faledwr i'w hargraphu, ac yno fe 'u cyhoeddid yn y fan, heb wybod o ba le y daethant; a gwych fyddai gan Wil Goch y Sign, neu Evan Elis eu caffael." A copy of the Englynion here follows: after which our poet proceeds :"Wala! dyna 'r Englynion; byddwch chwithau sicr o'u gyru iddo; ond ymgroeswch yn gadarn rhag son am fy enw i, oblegyd fe fydd Elis allan o faes merion ei gof; ac mi a'i gwarantaf fe gân yn fustlaidd i rywun, ac yno fe fydd agos i ddigon o ddrwg; ond gorau po mwyaf o'r fath ddrwg a hwnw. Os cân Elis i'r Coch, mi safaf wrth gefn fy nghydwladwr (yn y dirgel) U Os hir y gwelir y gân,-y llafur Wrth y cwmpas gloywlas, glân, Dylech mewn prifodl ei dilyn-rhagoch, Heb wyro lled gwybedyn A'r twybil1 wiw, gynnil gŷn. Yn fardd glân buan y bo 'ch,-Elisa ; Doed a ddêl, bid da gwneloch Ond deliwch sylw, Os rhaid i byliaid gaboli-rhigwm, Rhag im' ebargofi, Gorau o'r cer am beri Cywreinio cân yw croen ci. byd nas blino Elis, a Dafydd o Drefriw, a phawb. But I would not be known or seen as an ally, much less as a principal, yn y fath ffrwgwd. 2 Clêr. See page 40, 4. 3 Corddyn, the hinge of a door. ♦ Twybil, a carpenter's tool. Our author regards Elisa as a mere mechanical worker in verse; and he recommends for his use the tools which he here enumerates. Elisa was too contemptible a person to elicit a spark of Goronwy's satire. He is treated with a little playful irony only. 5 Huw Goch, Hugh Hughes. The composition was to appear as though it had come from Anglesea, and had been written by this bard. 6 Croen ci, croen ci 'r môr; the skin of the dog-fish. A note appended to this playful effusion in the second edition of Diddanwch Teuluaidd, 1817, states that Ellis Roberts was buried in the churchyard of Llanddoget, near Llanrwst, on the fourth day of December, 1789. ELIN MARWNAD UNIG FERCH Y BARDD.1 MAE cystudd rhy brudd i'm bron-'r hyd f' wyneb Collais Elin, liw hinon,2 1 While at Walton our poet lost his only daughter. Although but seventeen months old, her loss seems to have affected him greatly. Goronwy was a man of warm, strong affections; and of these his children absorbed their full share. Whenever he speaks of them, it is with a glow of enthusiasm that proves how closely interwoven they were with every tendril of his heart. His eldest son he calls : "Robert, y rhodd bert bach." He speaks of the first of January scene, such as he would desire for : Gwrandawn ar awdl, arabawdl Gân dant Goronwy gywreinwyn, I ware dwylaw ar y delyn." And again in the poem before us, as he contemplates the rent made by death between him and the little one he had loved so well, what a burst of affectionate feeling gushes forth. The man is lost in the father, or rather both man and father are lost in the poet. The fountains of thought, feeling, imagination, are let loose, and the result is an elegy as sweet and ten ANWYLYD, oleubryd lân, der as any that our language, rife as it is in this species of composition, has ever produced. The great requisites of poetry are here united. A writer, John Keble we think, in an essay which appeared many years ago in the British Critic, gives a theory of it, which is as true as it falls fresh on the ear. He says that poetry of the first order is "the natural relief of minds burdened by some engrossing idea, or strong emotion, or ruling taste, or imaginative regret." "Primary poets," he says again, "are they who are driven by some overmastering enthusiasm, or by passionate devotion to some range of objects, or line of thought, or aspect of life or nature, to utter their feelings in song. They sing because they cannot help it. There is a melody within them which will out, a fire in their blood which cannot be suppressed. This is the true poetic μavía of which Plato speaks." But leaving the domain of theory, the theme on which the poet here expends mind and language is in itself poetry. Childhood is ever lovely. Its innocence and artlessness, unaided by any other qualities, demand our affection. We cannot choose but love it. It enkindles Are they of heaven." And we no longer wonder that his Awen, at all times eloquent, should pour forth such a flood of rich pathos and poetry. 2 Lliw hinon, goleubleth, euriaith, lliw ser. These epithets are more than beautiful-they are germs of rich thought, which, when realised by the mind, swell out, and bud into numberless poetic fancies and rich imaginings. They remind us of a passage in Ceiriog's beautiful Rhiangerdd, Myfanwy Fechan':"Myfanwy, 'rwy'n gweled dy rudd Mewn meillion a briall a rhos; 3 "Sweet the hum of bees, the voice of The lisp of children, and their earliest words." Ymddifad ei thad, a thwn1 ER pan gollais feinais fanwl, 4 Twn, broken, fractured. 5 Feinais, slender of frame, sylphlike. The poet's sorrow, and we gather from his letters that it was deep, constrains him to fly for solace to the companionship of the Muse, and in her haunts to seek again the consolation which he had experienced in the past. Sympathy alleviates sorrow and oftentimes removes it. We impart our griefs to friendly ears and, by imparting, lessen them. Laying our burdens in part on other shoulders, our own are lightened. Poetry, as we have already noticed, is the utterance of intense emotion. We weave our thoughts of care and sorrow into its numbers; we give them a tongue in its songs; and they are alleviated. The night-shadows melt gradually into the grey mists of morning; and the grey mists into the brightness of the day. It was through a process of this kind that our bard now passed. Communing with his Muse, and pouring his sorrows into her ear, his soul was lightened of the burden that had been weighing him |