C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

The Giant Gwrveling Falls at Last

[The bard tells the story of Gwrveling’s revelry, impulsive bravery, and final slaughter of the foe before yielding to their prowess.]

LIGHT of lights—the sun,

Leader of the day,

First to rise and run

His appointed way,

Crowned with many a ray,

Seeks the British sky;

Sees the flight’s dismay,

Sees the Britons fly.

The horn in Eiddin’s hall

Had sparkled with the wine,

And thither, at a call

To drink and be divine,

He went, to share the feast

Of reapers, wine and mead.

He drank, and so increased

His daring for wild deed.

The reapers sang of war

That lifts its shining wings,

Its shining wings of fire,

Its shields that flutter far.

The bards, too, sang of war,

Of plumed and crested war;

The song rose ever higher.

Not a shield

Escapes the shock,

To the field

They fiercely flock,—

There to fall.

But of all

Who struck on giant Gwrveling,

Whom he would he struck again,

All he struck in grave were lain,

Ere the bearers came to bring

To his grave stout Gwrveling.