Giant echoes of dismay,
Trumpet of the whelming spray,
Like a thousand voices blending,
From the stars of heav’n descending;
Like the crash of forests hurl’d,
From the welkin to our world.
He then becomes, in his peculiar manner, very abusive against the thunder, compares it to the Rhuglgroen (an instrument used for frightening crows), and to an old hag beating her kettles about; he adds that he should not have cared for its vile noise had it not scared Morvyth from his side.
THE CUCKOO’S TALE.
The cuckoo brings the tidings of Morvyth’s marriage with Hunchback. The bard describes himself as waiting, at the dawn of day, under a precipice for the arrival of Morvyth. Seeing the cuckoo, he thus addresses that bird.
Hail, bird of sweet melody, heav’n is thy home;
With the tidings of summer thy bright pinions roam—
The summer that thickens with foliage the glade,
And lures to the woodland the poet and maid.
Sweet as ‘sack,’ gentle bird, is thy beautiful voice,
In thy accents the lover must ever rejoice;
Oh! tell me at once, in thy musical lay,
Where tarries the girl whose behest I obey.
