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Home  »  Poems of Places An Anthology in 31 Volumes  »  Last Words of Cadwallon

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
England: Vols. I–IV. 1876–79.

Wales: Tivy, the River

Last Words of Cadwallon

By Sir Walter Scott (1771–1832)

  • There is a tradition that Dafydd y Garreg-wen, a famous Welsh bard, being on his death-bed, called for his harp, and composed the sweet, melancholy air to which these verses are united, requesting that it might be performed at his funeral.


  • DINAS EMLINN, lament; for the moment is nigh,

    When mute in the woodlands thine echoes shall die:

    No more by sweet Teivi Cadwallon shall rave,

    And mix his wild notes with the wild dashing wave.

    In spring and in autumn thy glories of shade

    Unhonored shall flourish, unhonored shall fade;

    For soon shall be lifeless the eye and the tongue

    That viewed them with rapture, with rapture that sung.

    Thy sons, Dinas Emlinn, may march in their pride,

    And chase the proud Saxon from Prestatyn’s side;

    But where is the harp shall give life to their name,

    And where is the bard shall give heroes their fame?

    And O, Dinas Emlinn! thy daughters so fair,

    Who heave the white bosom and wave the dark hair;

    What tuneful enthusiast shall worship their eye,

    When half of their charms with Cadwallon shall die?

    Then adieu, silver Teivi! I quit thy loved scene,

    To join the dim choir of the bards who have been;

    With Lewarch, and Meilor, and Merlin the Old,

    And sage Taliessin, high harping to hold.

    And adieu, Dinas Emlinn! still green be thy shades,

    Unconquered thy warriors and matchless thy maids!

    And thou, whose faint warblings my weakness can tell,

    Farewell, my loved harp! my last treasure, farewell!