SEVEN QUALITIES,

THAT OUGHT TO BE POSSESSED BY A GENTLEMAN.

To be a bard at his table:
To be a lamb in his chamber:

To be a hermit in his church :

To be a peacock on the highway:
To be wise in his discourse:

To be a lion in the field:

To be an instructor in his house.

THE THREE AGES:

By IOLO GOCH.

Three times the age of an alder pole are judged to be the age of a dog:

Thrice the age of a dog makes the age of a horse:
Thrice the age of a horse makes the age of a man:
Thrice the age of a man makes the age of a stag:
Thrice the age of a stag makes the age of a hawk:*
Thrice the age of a hawk makes the age of an oak: †
An oak's reputed age, when three times told,
Describes the tenure of the land I hold.

THE EPITAPH AT CAERWYS.

Though now, beneath this mound oppress'd,

My ashes, gentle pilgrim, rest,

Still from their cell they shall ascend,

Corrupt to incorruption tend,

When to the host of earth is given
The summons of the trump of heaven,
Then shall they hail, with joy, the skies,
As from this house of death they rise,
To glory mounting where they paint
As one the seraph and the saint.

* An account lately appeared in the public papers of a hawk having died in the county of Norfolk, which had been in the same garden fifty years and was considered an old bird when brought there.-ED.

The patriarchal age, to which the oak grows, is well known. The celebrated tree, which lately stood at Nannau, was a remarkable instance of this fact, having existed, according to tradition, in the time of Glyndwr, and perhaps some ages before. An interesting account of it may be found in the first volume, pp. 226 and 467.-Ed.

Heb ddim gofal yn y byd, ond canu hyd y flwyddyn.

Eistedda ar y gangen,

Gan edrych ar ei aden,

Heb un geiniog yn ei god, yn llywio bod yn llawen.

LXXVI

Yn y mor y byddo 'r mynydd,

Sydd yn cuddio bro Meirionydd :

Na chawn unwaith olwg arni,

Cyn i'm calon dirion dòri.

ERDDIGAN Y CANORION*.

1.

Os yma i Lundain ar ddamwain ni ddaw,
Cog, eos, na hedydd, o ddolydd rhag braw;
Ond lleisiau, nid llesol, rhy fradol i fròn,
A lanwant ol-yn-ol bob heol o hòn;

Hardd gweled CANORION, rhai mwynion a mad;
Yn un ar ganiadau iawn lais eu hen wlad :
Boddineb o wydryn, o delyn, o gan,

O galon gyfeillgar, mòr glymgar a glan.

2.

Gofaled ariannog am log iddo ef,

A gwyr y rhagoriaeth am driniaeth y dref;

Gwyr llysoedd hwy lleisiant gan ddadwrdd mòr dyn,
A rhai am ddiwygiad eu siarad yw syn:
Ond ni y CANORION, hyfrydlon o fryd,
Canlynwn, tàn ganu, i flasu hoen byd:
Boddineb o wydryn, o delyn, o gan,
O galon gyfeillgar, mòr glymgar a glan.

3.

Dowch, feirddion, CANORION, rai dyfnion eu dysg,
Os unwch chwi yma, ceir mwyndra 'n ein mysg:
Bydd ini ddwy einioes am un einioes glaf,

O ganu fal hedydd ar hirddydd yr haf.

lawn cofio tra chyfion arferion à fu,

Ac fal ein hen dadau, cawn ninnau mòr gu,
Boddineb o wydryn, o delyn, o gan,

O galon gyfeillgar, mòr glymgar a glan.

YR HEDYDD †?

Yr hedydd ar fore cyfoda o'i nyth,

A'i dwyfron yn wlithog, i'r wybr hed yn syth;
A chyda'r arddwr llawen chwibana dros y ddol,

At yr hwyr y dychwela i'w nyth yn ei hol.

This song, which is the production of the Rev. E. Hughes of Bodfary; was sung at the last meeting of the CANORION at the Freemasons' Tavern, and has been set to music by Mr. Parry. An English translation will be given next month.-ED.

These lines, which were written by the late Evan Lloyd, Esq., of Maes y Porth, in the island of Anglesey, are à translation of the two English stanzas on a Lark, which will be found in a subsequent page.--ED.

Dysga fod yn esmwyth, dedwyddyd cai fal hon;
Boddlondeb sy deyrnas, pan wreiddia tàn y fròn;
Rho derfyn i'th awydd, a'th nwydau sydd heb ri',
Boddlonach fyddi efory na heddyw, coelia fi.

ENGLISH POETRY.

TRANSLATIONS OF THE PENNILLION.

LXXI

To fall sick of love or not,

Tell me, friend, which should I choose,
Doubting, who the prize has got,

She who gains, or I who lose.

Upon the branch he'll stand,
His eye fix'd on his wing,
Not a penny at command,
Rejoicing still to sing.

LXXVI

Plunge yon mountains in the sea,
That hide Meirion's land from me:
Ne'er again twill meet my sight,
Till this heart is broke outright.

STANZAS

ON THE FORMATION OF THE

METROPOLITAN CAMBRIAN INSTITUTION.

1.

SHADES of the great, the nobly brave,
Rejoice, the hour, tho' long delay'd,
Hath come, when, like the ocean's wave,
In majesty and might array'd,

The treasures of your native land

Shall ride sublime from strand to strand.

2.

Cambria, exult! behold, her wings,

Arous'd from slumber, Fame hath spread;
Lov'd dwelling of a thousand kings,
Again she rears thy sunken head:
See the vast roll her hand displays,
The records of thy past and glorious days.

3.

She waves her wand, the forms arise

Of mighty men, forgotten long;
Hark! to her harp's wild symphonies

Again she wakes thy beauteous song:
To modern ear and eye she brings

Tales of thy minstre's, deeds of thy stern kings.

4.

Before her glance the clouds retire,

Whose gloom so long hath on thee lain:,

See! bright up-springs the dormant fire,

Lighting all thy proud domain :