Welsh Journals

The awful sound Ned Môn obey'd, Which fatally o'erthrew, All against Madog he had said As well as all he knew. Ceiriog aghast the omen took, The President lay dead, The Crindy to the centre shook, And all the wranglers fled. Thus rebel angels, when they dar'd To raise debates in heav'n, Soon as the 1 hunderer's voice they heard, To hell's abyss were driv'n. So seeking out the various holes, Alleys, and lanes, of London, Routed Caradogs ran in shoals, Like d d spirits undone. All light extinguish'd to a spark By Owen Myfyrs fun, We ended deeper in the dark Than when we first begun. 0 send to me a Poet's pate To Ceiriog, love of peace And grant henceforth that fell debate 'Twixt Cambrian Wits may cease! DAFYDD Ddu FEDDYG.'