Acta Papensia 2018. - A Pápai Református Gyűjtemények Közleményei 18. évfolyam (Pápa, 2018)

2018 / 1-2. szám

-s Kisebb Közlemények =Acta Papensia XVIII (2018) 1-2. SZÁM

“Yea, swords do clash and armors crash, And blood-red is the sun,

And birds of prey descend to stay;

Edward! This thou hast done.

A thousand of our race are slain In gory battle lost,

Who lives to-day may sadly say ‘This is my holocaust’.”

Then angrily the King commands “He shall die on the stake,

For I will hear but words of cheer!”

Then came a youth who spake:

“Soft breezes blow, yet charged with woe, From Milford’s bay; they bring The widow’s sighs, the orphan’s cries Upon the zephyr’s wing.

“Welsh mothers no more slaves shall bear, Nor bring to manhood’s state.”

“He, too, shall die!” the King now shrieks With voice that breathes but hate.

But fearless, bold, unbidden e’en,

A third bard now appears,

And thus the minstrel tunes his lute,

And this the King now hears:

“Our braves have died on battle-fields;

Take heed, beware, oh King,

There lives no bard ofWales, who e’er Will Edward’s praises sing.

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