Where are the men who went forth in the morning,
Hope brightly beaming in every face?
Fearing no danger,--the Saxon foe scorning,--
Little thought they of defeat or disgrace!
Fallen is their chieftain--his glory departed--
Fallen are the heroes who fought by his side!
Fatherless children now weep, broken-hearted,
Mournfully wandering by Rhuddlan's dark tide!

Small was the band that escaped from the slaughter,
Flying for life as the tide 'gan to flow;
Hast thou no pity, thou dark rolling water?
More cruel still than the merciless foe!
Death is behind them, and death is before them;
Faster and faster rolls on the dark wave;
One wailing cry--and the sea closes o'er them;
Silent and deep is their watery grave.

From the Welsh of TALIESSIN,