many other men of genius, might often have sunk into despondency under the monotonous influence of a common-place existence. We have every reason to believe that the spirit-stirring and adventurous life which he led was highly propitious to the development of his energies; most of his finest poems were evidently suggested by some novel scene or situation, and often by localities in a part of Wales very remote from his ordinary residence.
But Dayyth ap Gwilym was indebted not only to the scenery and habits of his country: he undoubtedly owed much to her ancient literature. The rude but energetic lays of her elder bards—her mystical but interesting legends—and the records of the gallant deeds of her heroic kings—seem to have been deeply impressed on his memory, and to have furnished him with many a happy illustration, and many a fanciful embellishment.
Of Davyth ap Gwilym’s accomplishments it is difficult to speak with certainty. His productions supply some proof of his having participated at least in the learning which that age was qualified to impart. Allusions to classical personages occur occasionally in his poems, and he frequently professes to have made the works of Ovid his study. With these attainments he united the national accomplishment of playing on the harp, which he appears to have learnt at an early age from his uncle Llywelyn ap Gwilym; and from one of his poems it is to be inferred that he delighted to contribute in this manner to the amusement of his female acquaintance.
The character of Davyth ap Gwilym has been
