| |
| THE SPEARMEN heard the bugle sound, | |
| And cheerily smiled the morn; | |
| And many a brach, and many a hound, | |
| Obeyed Llewellyn’s horn. | |
| |
| And still he blew a louder blast, | 5 |
| And gave a lustier cheer, | |
| “Come, Gêlert, come, wert never last | |
| Llewellyn’s horn to hear. | |
| |
| “O, where does faithful Gêlert roam, | |
| The flower of all his race; | 10 |
| So true, so brave,—a lamb at home, | |
| A lion in the chase?” | |
| |
| In sooth, he was a peerless hound, | |
| The gift of royal John; | |
| But now no Gêlert could be found, | 15 |
| And all the chase rode on. | |
| |
| That day Llewellyn little loved | |
| The chase of hart and hare; | |
| And scant and small the booty proved, | |
| For Gêlert was not there. | 20 |
| |
| Unpleased, Llewellyn homeward hied, | |
| When, near the portal seat, | |
| His truant Gêlert he espied, | |
| Bounding his lord to greet. | |
| |
| But, when he gained his castle-door, | 25 |
| Aghast the chieftain stood; | |
| The hound all o’er was smeared with gore; | |
| His lips, his fangs, ran blood. | |
| |
| Llewellyn gazed with fierce surprise; | |
| Unused such looks to meet, | 30 |
| His favorite checked his joyful guise, | |
| And crouched, and licked his feet. | |
| |
| Onward, in haste, Llewellyn passed, | |
| And on went Gêlert too; | |
| And still, where’er his eyes he cast, | 35 |
| Fresh blood-gouts shocked his view. | |
| |
| O’erturned his infant’s bed he found, | |
| With blood-stained covert rent; | |
| And all around the walls and ground | |
| With recent blood besprent. | 40 |
| |
| He called his child,—no voice replied,— | |
| He searched with terror wild; | |
| Blood, blood he found on every side, | |
| But nowhere found his child. | |
| |
| “Hell-hound! my child ’s by thee devoured,” | 45 |
| The frantic father cried; | |
| And to the hilt his vengeful sword | |
| He plunged in Gêlert’s side. | |
| |
| Aroused by Gêlert’s dying yell, | |
| Some slumberer wakened nigh: | 50 |
| What words the parent’s joy could tell | |
| To hear his infant’s cry! | |
| |
| Concealed beneath a tumbled heap | |
| His hurried search had missed, | |
| All glowing from his rosy sleep, | 55 |
| The cherub boy he kissed. | |
| |
| Nor scathe had he, nor harm, nor dread, | |
| But, the same couch beneath, | |
| Lay a gaunt wolf, all torn and dead, | |
| Tremendous still in death. | 60 |
| |
| Ah, what was then Llewellyn’s pain! | |
| For now the truth was clear; | |
| His gallant hound the wolf had slain | |
| To save Llewellyn’s heir. | |
| |
