Air—"The Dawn of Day."
I.
A voice from time departed, yet floats thy hills among.
O Cambria! thus thy prophet bard, they Taliesin sung!
The path of unborn ages is trac'd upon my soul,
The clouds, which mantle things unseen, away before me roll.
A light, the depths revealing, hath o'er my spirit pass'd
A rushing sound from days to be, swells fitful in the blast,
And tells me that for ever shall live the lofty tongue,
To which the harp of Mona's woods by Freedom's hand was strung.
II.
Green island of the mighty
1! I see thine ancient race
Driv'n from their fathers' realm, to make the rocks their dwelling place!
I see from Uthyr's
2 kingdom the sceptre pass away,
And many a line of bards and chiefs, and princely men decay.
But long as Arvon's Mountains shall lift their sovereign forms,
And wear the crown to which is given dominion o'er the storms,
So long, their empire sharing, shall live the lofty tongue,
To which the harp of Mona's woods by Freedom's hand was strung!
A Prophecy of Taliesin relating to the Ancient Britons, is still extant, and has been strikingly verified. It is to the following effect:
"Their God they shall worship.
Their language they shall retain,
Their land they shall lose,
Except wild Wales.
