Monmouthshire Merlin

ARIETTE. GIVE me thy heart, oh, -wandering Boy, And 1 will keep it in my bosom Like a wilful bird, And feed its life on rosy blossom Until tame and gentle grown, It learns a peaceful song of joy, • Sweeter than it ever heard From the singing of mine own. Though filled with love of land and sea, All careless o'er the world thou rovest, Thou hast not learned pleasure yet, For there is none, oh, soul, thou lovest, Cold of heart, though bright of brain; But come, and I shall girdle thee In such a little rosy net, Thou ne'er shalt wish to rove again. Come! trust me yet a little, come I long to touch what none has owned, Long to wake a silent spell Till, as a viol golden-toned. Stirs with its airy soul the strings Of one that lies untouched and dumb, With mine thy heart shall join its spell, And both shall blend their utterings.

LITTLE BELL. He prayeth well who loveth well Both man, and bird, and beast.—COLERIDGE. PIPED the Blackbird on the beechwood spray— il Pretty maid. slow wandering this way, 4< What's your name ?" quoth he— What's vour name ? Oh! stop and straight unfold, Fretty maid, with showery curls of gold." Little Bell," said she. Little Bell sat down beneath the rocks- Tossed aside her gleaming golden locks— "Bonnybifdl" quoth she— Sing me your finest song before I go." Here's the very finest song I know, Little Bell," said he. And the Blackbird piped—you never heard Half so gay a song from any bird— Full of quips and wiles, Now so round and rich, now soft and slow, All for love of that sweet face below, Dimpled o'er with smiles. And the while that bonny bird did pour His full heart out, freely, o'er and o'er, 'Neath the morning skies, In the littla childish heart below, All the sweetness seemed to grow and grow, And shine forth in happy overflow, From the blue bright eyes. Down the dell she tripped, and through the glade,- Peeped the Squirrel from the hazel shade, And from out the tree Swung, and leaped, and frolicked, void of fear— While both Blackbird piped, that all might hear— Little Bell!"—piped he. Little Bell sat down amid the fern— Squirrel, Squirrel, to your task return- Bring me nuts!" quoth she. Up, away the frisky Squirrel hies— Golden wood-lights glancing in his eyes,— And adown the tree, Great ripe nuts, kissed brown by July sun, In the little lap, dropt, one by one — Hark how Blackbird pipes to see the sun! Happy Bell!" pipes he. Little Bell looked up and down the glade.— Squirrel. Squirrel, from the nut-tree shade, Bonny Blackbird, if you're not afraid, Come and share with me!" Down came Squirrel, eager for his fare,— Down came bonny Blackbird, I declare. Ah the merry three And the while those frolic playmates twain Piped and frisked from bough to bough again, 'Neath the morning skies, In the little childish heart below, All the sweetness seemed to grow and grow, And shine out, in happy overflow, From her blue, bright eyes. By her snow white cot, at close of day, Knelt sweet Bell, with folded palms to pray- Very calm and clear Rose the praying voice to where, unseen In blue Heaven, an angel shape serene Paused awhile to hear. What good child is this," the angel said, That with happy heart beside her bed, Prays so lovingly?" Low and soft, oh very low and soft, Crooned the Blackbird in the orchard croft, "Bell, dear Bell!" crooned he. u Whom God's creatures love," the angel fair Murmured God doth bless with angel's care; Child, thy bed shall be Folded safe from harm—love, deep and kind, Shall watch around and leave good gifts behind, Little Bell, for thee." —Athentzum.

HOUSE-HUNTING IN "WALES.—1845. (Continuedfrom our last.) INSPIRED by those animated pages, we descanted with the profoundest erudition, to our astonished companion on the box, about its machicolated towers, and the fidely propor- tioned mullions of the hall. If you ascend the walls of the castle," we exclaimed in a paroxysm of enthusiasm, as if we were perched on the very top, you will see that the castle occupies the centre of an undulating plain, chec- kered with white-washed farm-houses, fields, and noble groves of oak. The tower and village of Ragland lie at a short distance, picturesquely straggling and irregular. To the north, the bold and diversified forms of the Craig, the Sugar Loaf, Skyrids, and Blorenge mountains, with the outlines of the Hatterals, perfect the scene in this direction; whilst the ever-varying and amphitheatrical boundary of this natural basin, may be traced over the Blaenavons, Craig y-garayd, (close to Usk,) the Gaer Yawr, the round Twm Barlwm, the fir-crowned top of Wentwood forest, Peny-cae-Mawr, the dreary heights of Xewchurch and De- yauden the continuation of the same range past Llanishen, the white church of which is plainly visible; Trelleck, Craig-y-Dorth, and the highlands above Troy Park, where they end." We were going on in the same easy and off-hand manner to describe some other! peculiarities of the landscape, when a sudden lurch of the carriage brought the book we were furtively pillaging, into open view, and we were forced, with a very bad grace, to con- fess our obligations to the author. A very beautiful ruin it is, certainly, and we made a vow to devote a day to ex- ploring its remains, and judging for ourselves of the accu- racy of the guide-book's description. Even if the road had no recommendation from the lovely openings it gives at every turn, it would be a pleasure to travel by it in sun- ahine, for the edges along its whole extent were a com- plete rampart of the sweetest smelling May. Such miles of snow-white blossoms we never saw before. It looked like Titania's bleaching-ground, and as if all the fairies had hung out their white frocks to dry. And the haw- thorn blossoms along the road were emulated on all the lit- tle terraces at the side of it; the apple and pear trees were in full bloom, and every little cottage rejoiced in its or- chard—so that, with the help of hedges and fruit trees, the whole earth was in a glow of beauty and perfume—and we prophesie this would be a famous year for cider and perry. Abergavenny has a very bad approach from Monmouth, and we dreaded a repetition of the delays we had just es- caped from; how great, therefore, was our gratification, when we pulled up at the door of the Angel, and were shown into a splendid room, thirty-five or forty feet long, by twenty wide, secured bedrooms as clean and comfortable as heart can desire, and had every thing we asked for with- the precision of clockwork, and the rapidity of steam. The Three Cocks began to descend from the lofty place they held in our esteem, and we resolved, for one day at least, to rest contentedly in such comfortable quarters, and look about us; so forth we sallied, and in the course of our pilgrimage speedily arrived at Aberga'ny Castle. Talk of pieturesqueness! this was picturesque enough for poet or painter with a vengeance—great thick walls all covered over with ivy, crowning a round knoll at the upper part of the town, and looking over a finer view, we will venture to say, than that we have just described as seen from Rag- land and to complete the beauty of it—the comforts of modern civilization uniting themselves to ancient magni- ficence—the main walls have been fitted up by one of the late lords into a pretty dwelling-house, which was at the moment occupied by one of the surgeons of the town. This is the true use of an antique ruin—this is replacing the coat of mail with a rain-proof mackintosh—the steel casque of Brian de Boisguilbert, with the Kilmarnock nightcap of Bailie Nicol Jarvie. And in this instance, the change had been effected with the greatest skill; the coat of mail and steel casque are still there, but only for show; the mackintosh and nightcap are the habitual dress; and few dwellings in our poor eyes are comparable to the one, that outside has the date of the crusaders, and inside, the conveniences of 1845. The town has a noble body-guard of hills all round it; and perched high on almost inacces- sible ledges, are little white-walled cottages, that made us long for the wings of a bird to fly up and inspect them closer; no other mode of conveyance would be either speedy or safe, for the sides of the mountains are nearly perpendicular, and would have put Douglas's horse to its mettle, when he was on a visit to Owen Glendowr. Dark, gloomy, Tartarean hills they appear, and no wonder; for their whole interior is composed of iron, and day and night they are. glimmering and smoking with a hundred fires. They have a dreadful, stern, metallic look about them, and are as different in their configuration from the chalk hills of Hampshire, as they are from cheese. Some day, we shall ascend their dusky sides, and dive into Plato's drearier domains—the iron-works—a god who, in the present state of railway speculation, might easily be confounded with Plutus; and with this and many other good resolutions, we returned to the hospitable care of friend Mr. Morgan, at the Angel. Next day was ounday, and very wet. We slipped across the street, and heard a very good sermon in the morning, in a large hand- some church, which was not quite so well filled as it ought o rb beehn, and were kept close prisoners all day after- wards by the unrelenting clouds. fas.not yet attained, and we resolved to p. i y fresh vigour on our expedition to the Three •f. ^as only two-and-twenty miles off; our host, L that' ^ey say, is always found V»1A NF FL v. A ?> ?P°ke in the highest terms of the Yale of Glasbury, and its clean and comfortable hotel. He also made inquiry for us as to its present condition, ] and brought back the pleasing intelligence that it was not full, and that we should find plenty of accommodation at once. This did away with the necessity of writing to the landlord, and in a short time we were once more upon the road, maids and children inside as usual, and a natty pos- tillion cocking his white hat and flicking his little whip, in the most bumptious manner imaginable. Through Crickhowell we went without drawing bridle, and went almost too fast to observe sufficiently its very beautiful situation; past noble country scats, bower, and hall, we drove and at last wound our solitary way along a cross- road, among some pastoral hills, that reminded us more of Dumfriesshire, than any country we have ever seen. The road ascended gradually for many miles; and on crowning the elevation, we caught a very noble extensive view of a rich, flat, thickly-wooded plain, that bore a great resemblance to the unequalled neighbourhood of Warwick. Down and down we trotted—hills and heights of all kinds left behind us—trees, shrubs, hedges, all in the fullest leaf, lay for miles and miles on every side; and the scenery had about as much resemblance to our ideal of Welsh landscape, as ditch water has to champagne. Through this wilderness of sweets, stifling and oppressive from its very richness, we drove for a long way, looking in vain for the hilly region where the Three Cocks had taken up their abode. At last we saw, a little way in front of us, at the side of the road—or rather with one gable-end pro- jecting into it, a large white house, with a mill appearing to constitute one of its wings. "The man will surely stay here to water the horses," was our observation and so, indeed, he did—and as he threw the rein loose over the off horse's neck -there! don't you see the sign-board on the wall ? Alas, alas, this is the Three Cocks! An ;id- mirable fishing quarter it must be, for the river is very near, and the country rich and beautiful, but not adapted to our particular case, where mountain air and free ex- posure are indispensable. But if it had been ten times less adapted to our purpose, we had travelled too far to give it up. Can you take us in for a few weeks The landlord laughed at the idea. I could not find room for a single individual, if you gave me a thousand pounds. A party has been with me for some time, and I can't even say how long they may stay." And, corrobora ive of this, we saw at the window our fortunate extruders, who no doubt congratulated them- selves on so many points of the law being in their favour. Here were we stuck on the Queen's high road—tired horses, cooped-up children and the Three Cocks as un- attainable as the philosopher's stone. The sympathising landlord consoled us in our disappointment as well as he could. The postillion jumped into his saddle again, and we pursued our way to the nearest place where there was any likelihood of a reception—namely, the Hay, a village of some size, about five miles further on. Come along, we shall easily find a nice cottage to-morrow, or get into, some farm-house, and ruralise for a month or two delight- fully." Our hopes rose as we looked forward to a settled home, after our experience of the road for so many days; and we soared to such a pitch of audacity at last, that we congralulated ousrelves that we had not got in at Glasbury, but were forced to go forward. The world was all before us where to choose. The country seemed to improve — that is, to get a little less Dutch in its level, as we pro- ceeded— and we finally reached the Hay, with the deter- minatiou of Barnaby's raven, to bear a good heart, at all events, and take for our motto, in all the ills of life,— Never say die! never say die The hotel had been taken by assault, and was occupied in great force by a troop of dragoons, on their march into Glo'stershire. We therefore did not come off quite so well as if we had led the forlorn hope ourselves; but, after so long a journey, we rejoiced in being admitted at all. Two or three Welsh girls, who perhaps would have been excel- lent waiters under other circumstances, appeared to con- sider themselves on military duty, and no other; so we sat for a very long while in solitary stateliness, wonder- ing when the water would boil, and the tea-things be brought, and the ham and eggs be ready. And of our wondering there was likely to be no end, till at last the hungry captain, the lieutenant, and the cornet, were fairly settled at dinner, and at about eight o'clock we got tea, but no bread then came the loaf—and there was no but- ter then butter—and there was no knife; but at last, all things arrived, and the little ones were sent off to bed, and we amused ourselves by listening to the rain on the window panes, and the whistling of the wind in the long passages; and, with a resolution to be up in good time to pursue our house-hunting project on the morrow, we concluded the fifth day of our peregrinations in search of change of air. We had a charming prospect from the window, at break- fast. A gutter tearing its riotous way down the street, supplied by a whole night's rain, and clouds resting with the most resolute countenances on the whole face of the land. At the post-office-that universal focus of informa- tion — to which we wended in one of the intervals between the showers, we were told of admirable lodgings. On going to see them, they consisted of two little rooms, in a narrow lane. Then we were seat to another quarter, and found the accommodation still more inadequate; and, at last, were inconceivably cheered, by hearing of a pretty cottage—just the thing—only left a short time ago by Captain somebody; five bed-rooms, two parlours, large garden; if it had been planned by our own architect, it could not have been better. Off we hurried to the owner of this bijou. The worthy captain, on giving up his lease, had sold his furniture; but we were welcome to it as ten- ant for a year! "Are there no furnished houses iu this neighbourhood at all ?" "No—e'es—may be you'll get in at the shippus, which, being Anglicised, is sheep-house; and away we toddled a mile and a half to the shippus—a nice old farm- house, with some pretensions to squiredom, and the inha- bitants kind and civil as heart could wish. Yes, they sometimes let their rooms—to families larger than ours—they supplied them with everything waited on them-did for them-anù, as for the children, there wasn't such a placj in the county for nice fields to play in." We looked round the room—a good high ceiling, large window. "This is just the thing—and I am delighted we were told of your house." It would have been very delightful, but—but we ar'e full already, and we expect some of our own family home. And why didn't you tell all this before?—we nearly said —and to this hour, we can't understand why there was such a profuse explanation of comforts- which we were never destined to partake of. But just across the road, there is a very nice cottage, where you can get lodged—and we can supply you with milk, and anything else you want." Oho there is some hope for us yet; and a few minutes saw us in colloquy with the old gentleman, the proprietor of the house. With the usual politeness of the Welsh, he dilated on the pleasure of having agreeable visitors; and, with the usual Welsh habit of forgetting that people don't generally travel with beds and blankets, carpets and chairs, and tables and crockery, on their shoulders, he seemed ra- ther astonished when the fact of the rooms destined for us being unfurnished, was a considerable drawback. So, in not quite such high spirits as we started, we returned to the Hay. (TO BE CONCLUDED IN NEXT.)

ARAGO. THE New York Quarterly relates an anecdote of the late astronomer, which will be new to many. It seems that during the Bourbon regime, dissatisfied with his provincial glories as deputy from little Perpignan, he aspired to re- present Paris itself in the Legislative Chamber, and al- though thwarted in every direction by the Court and the officers of Government, he canvassed Paris and harangued the people on subjects the most difficult to discuss, with ifaipunity. Though dogged on every side by in- formers, greedily watching for a word of disaffection or of democracy, which might be used as a means of his overthrow, imprisonment, or banishment, he still suc- ceeded, by his adroitness, in conveying ideas, without clothing them in language capable of being made avail- able against him, even before a Parisian tribunal. On one of these occasions, when his eloquence and power had worked the multitude into an excitement not easily quelled, an individual addressed him from the crowd and demanded of him that he should inform the assembly whether he would advocate a republican form of Govern- ment. Arago again ascended the tribune, and thus con- tinued:— "Would I advocate a republic? Before I can answer a question like that, you must be more explicit, and let me know what you mean by a republic. Do you mean a republic like Athens, great in all the arts of war and of peace, its Demos the most cultivated people of the earth, but subsisting, without labour, upon the toil of a class ground by oppression to the very dust; a republic, rich in letters and arts, but poor in morals and religion a re- public whose ingratitude embittered the lives and has- tened the death of her chief benefactors and patriots? If such be the kind of republic to which you alluded, no, I am not a Republican. Do you mean a republic like Rome, whose only glory was in carnage, whose only triumphs consisted in the subjugation and oppression of neighbouring and distant nations ? If so, I am not a Republican. Do you mean a republic like Venice, a far more perfect oligarchy than Athens, whose only glory was in wealth of commerce, without the refining influence of letters and arts ? Or one like Holland, of which the same may be said ? If so, I would scorn to be a Repub- lican. Do you mean a republic like the United States of Aiflerica, where liberty and education go hand in hand; where the Christian religion exerts its benignant in- fluences where merit is rewarded by the applause of a grateful nation, and the laws are rigorously executed, whoever the culprit ? A republic where men dare say all that they think, or thiuk all that they feel ? If so, you know that to express a favourable opinion, would be to sign a warrant for my own defeat and imprisonment; pub- licly to advocate such a republic, is proscribed by the sove- reign and narty whom I have here to-day been opposing, in every way their stringent laws allow and I appeal to the multitude before me, whether the individual who asks me such a question, and seeks to make me commit myself in public, is not a coward ?" An enthusiastic shout, which might have been heard at the distant Neuilly, was the reply. i

LORD MANSFIELD AND THE HORSE JOCKEY. When Lord Mansfield became Lord Chief Justice, he was desirous that his equipage should make a conspicuous figure, and endeavoured to procure a set of handsome horses, which were to be quite black without any admixture of white. After much trouble in making the necessary in- quiry, a handsome set ofborsos was found, his lordship ap- proved of them, and paid a very high price for them. In a short time, a star made its appearance in a pure white upon the front of one horse, a blaze in the face of another, a white fetlock upon a third, and some of the forbidden white appeared upon some part of all those horses that were expeeted by his lordship not to have had a single hair but what was black. Lord Mansfield, in a great rage, sent for the horse-dealer, reproved and threatened him with punishment for the fraud. The man repelled the charge with firmness, and asserted that if his lordship examined his bill and receipt, he would find that they were given for the horses that he had sold by their true description. This was done; when the learned judge discovered, that as- sisted by bad writing and worse orthography, the dealer had given him a receipt for the sum of-for- horses coloured black This was conclusive; but Snany g. horse dealer suffered for this imposition for during the whole time that Lord Mansfield sat upon the bench, when- ever a horse-cause was brought before him, if it was possi- ble there could be two interpretations put upon the case, his lordship always charged that to the jury which was most unfavourable to the jockey.—Sporting Magazine.

TURNER AND GIRTIN'S PICTURESQUE VIEWS, Sixty Years Since.—Edited by Thomas Miller.—Thirty En- gravings of the Olden Time. This work contains a collection of plates, engraved in the early and, technically-speaking, hard style, so different as scarcely to be recognised by amateurs, as being by the same art which produces the beautifully soft and delicate engravings in the works of Miller, Goodale, Cousins, Heath, and other of our eminent modern steel engravers: Jthe plates, as a collection of copies from the early productions of Turner's and Girtin's pencils, derive however, considerable interest from that fact, and enable us to see to some extent the nature of the matetials and course of practice and study, which qualified these great men, and more especially the former, to achieve the grand results of his latter years. We cannot but regret that a more complete biography of the modern Claude," was not introduced into the present work: it would have been most welcome and acceptable at this time, when the public are all agog respecting the merit of his various works, and anxious to know something more of a man who left as a legacy to the nation £ 100,000, and a few of his most esteemed pictures (unfortunately in a very deplo- rable condition). We say, a more complete account of the greatest of modern painters would have been a valuable boon to the admirers of the genius of J. M.W. Turner. None but the artist or profound connoisseur can possibly jndge fa- vourably of Turner by the examples, presented to us in the work under notice in fact, it must be admitted and understood, such is not the object of the book; it is rather to shew the early manner and style of Turner and his contemporary Girtin, men who have been justly said to be the originators of the present school of English landscape painters, pre-eminently the first in Europe. It will also assist the reader in tracing the source of the inspiration which time, reflection, and genius enabled Turner to throw into the works which will carry his name down to posterity; proving that patient study and unremitting close observation, were the means of laying the solid foundation of his success in the art. In reading the anecdotes occasionally introduced rela- tive to the penurious habits, and at times, grasping, avari- cious conduct of this great artist, we feel most sincerely for the weakness, and cannot but regret it, as casting a gloomy shade through the otherwise sunny and glorious atmosphere we revel in, when contemplating the genius ,of the man as shewn in his works. The book is very elegantly got up, and is on the whole a most welcome addition to any library or collection of works of art.

AUSTRALIAN LETTER FROM MR. LEWIS, LATE OF NEWPORT. "Dalton's Flat, Ballarat Diggings, November 19th, 1853. My dear Parents,—' Hope, long deferred, maketh the heart grow sick.' This adage I can most truly subscribe to, having waited so long and so anxiously for letters from you. The last I received, was in answer to mine from the Cape of Good Hope nearly three weeks elapsed be- tween the arrival of the Overland mail (from here April 5th), which arrived in England about June 18th, and the departure of the next, July 8th, by which I fully ex- pected to receive an answer to my letter, but was disap- pointed; and although several later mails have been re- ceived in the colony, yet I get no letter from you. I am fully aware that the post-office regulation^ jo **us colony are very defective, cqgl Itjkrgc numbers of lexers tfciver reach their owners, and I fear that I am to be one of the victims of the inefficiency of the post-office department: perhaps I shall receive half-a-dozen letters at one time. You will have perceived, from my former letters,* (if you have re- ceived them), that I am at these diggings since July 20th, but have only cleared my expenses, although we have worked hard all the time we have been here; but if we succeed in getting a claim through which the lode of gold runs, it will amply repay us for all the time we have hitherto lost, and we are determined to stick to it until we succeed; we stand the same chance as other men, and scarcely a week passes without our hearing of some one or other of our acquaintance at the diggings, leaving, to re- turn to England—being satisfied with the quantity of gold he has obtained, (perhaps, only out of one or two claims) but let no one suppose this to be easily got; the present diggings on Ballarat are the deepest in the colony, and consequently more difficult. I will give you a. description of one of the Ballarat holes :—A depth of from 100 to 145 feet—eight men in a party: the holes making a deal of water (salt), they require to be timbered or slabbed all the way down; consequently, the first operation is to proceed to the bush, select some good, straight-grained trees (which requires experience), fell, and split them into slabs, about four feet long, and haif-an-inch thick; then to adze them smooth and straight, fit them so that each four shall be of the same width, and bore holes in them with an augur, for pegs to be driven in to secure the slabs in their places. Having about 800 of these ready, then commence J sinking for some time, two by day and two by night—the other four being employed in preparing the slabs. When at the depth of about 60 feet, we strike a soft sand or drift, through which the water runs, as through a sieve. After this, it will require two men at the windlass, and one in the hole, which makes three for each watch and, remem- ber, the one who gets into the hole to sink, is wet through in about ten minutes after he goes down he works down for six hours, changes his clothes, and takes a hand at the windlass, in the place of one of the others, who goes down in his stead, until the other watch relieves them; so that the hole is always being worked, except at midnight and mid-day, for the respective watches to take their dinner or supper; and, perhaps, after sinking to the depth of 110 feet, and driving some 10 or 12 feet, you can get nothing that will pay for washing; while, perhaps, the next hole to yours will yield £ 1000 to each man, and, in many in- stances, during the past winter, more than that. Some of the holes have yielded from 800 lbs. to 1000 lbs. weight of go!d; and it is generally thought that this summer will open up ground far richer than anything ever yet known. I heartily hope that I shall be able to tell you this by word of mouth before this time twelvemonth; trust me, it will not be for want of trying, and that very hard. About five weeks ago, we all four worked 48 hours, with- out rest, to secure a piece of ground, and by thus working, we obtained about £45 per man, which is nearly all we have got since we have been here. My three mates" were fellow-passengers in the Clara Symes, and you will, perhaps, remember something of them when I say they belonged to berth No. 9. I have not received any letter from Alfred since I left town, although I have written to him three times—but the inland postage, especially, is very irregular, and it is not at all improbable that he has never received any of them; but I have heard of him seve- ral times, by fellow-passengers, who have seen him at Williamstown, and about a fortnight ago, two of my mates were in town, and saw Mr. David Morris, lithogra- pher, formerly of Newport, who told them that Alfred was quite well, and still with the builder; indeed, I am very thankful to Mr. Morris for the care he has taken with him, (although I would rather he was up here,) and put him in a way of earning good wages. It is not by any means a desirable place for one of his age." No such letters have been received. It is evident from from this remark, that letters and newspapers forwarded to him, as well as his letter home, are detained.

ANERCHIAD I EOS CYNLLWYD, GER LLANUWCHLLYN, Yr hwn a gwynai ei adaw yn unig yn y bymthogfed fiwyddyn a phedwar ugain o'i oedran. Ow fudo hen gyfoedion—hunasant Hen oeswyr gwych ddewrion Gwyr hyglod, Och, syndod son, Marw wnaent oil yn Heirion. Cefnent yn mrig y cyfnos—a gad'ent Y gwywedig Eos Yn fwyn un ar fin y nos, Egwan a neb yn agos. Druan ei hunan, roae heno-oes dyn Estynodd a heibio; Can' mlynedd fewn dyrnfedd do, Blynyddau blinion iddo. Cais hyn ar derfyn 'dyrfa—gwir 'adwaen GwaredwT yn Naddfa; Rhad drugaredd diwedd da Hwyr ydyw na hir oeda. Brynmawr. DAPYDD AB DEWI. YMOFYNIAD AM TUDUR PENLLYN, o Wergloeddgilfach, ger Llanuwchllyn. Dywedwch, nid da i wadu—on'd ydyw Hen Dudur yn llechu, Yn iach yn ei gilfalch gu Ogleddwr heb ei gladdu ? Brynmawr, Da £ AB DEWI.