Bat Freedom's sons inherit there ;
Lfood and piercing is the storm,
knd yet it nerves the gallant form i



32-

The rugged billowg scourge the strand,
So their foes lash the-soos of ths Mountain Land.
Our mountain land is high in air,
Eialted in its greatness rare ;
And there be vales and streams between
The hills of brown and forests green ;
While a gay and cheerful happy band
Are the hardy sons of the Mountain Land.
And who shall charge us void of wealth ?
On hill and vale the goddess Health,
By rosy nymphs attended well.
Reigns, and breathes the wholesome spell ;
O^er Cymry^s train she waves her wand.
And blesses the sons of the Mountain Land.
Oh dear to them the harp and song.
As vengeance for a burning wrong ; —
Oh dear to them is friendship's greet.
And woman's love, of rapture sweet:
Dearer still to the gallant band
Is the land of their fathers— the Mountain Land.
But is all prowess in the grave ?
No ! there l^e hearts the land to save ;
Who deem us weak oh much they err,
Woe, woe, (o ^hallow Mortimer I
Glyndwr stands Against Bolingbroke,
Burst and dash'd to the earth be the Cymry's yoke.
The htrlas still is foamif^g fpiuid,

The corn-buelin hath a sound,

Old Cymru's telyp still ht^tb strings,
^ And many ^ patriot l^ard that sings $

Sons to obey and sires to command.
And Glyndwr's the chief of the Mountain Land.
33
PRINCE HOEL'S CHILD.
