NOTES. NOTE 1. Still rise the cairns of yore, all rudely piled. In some parts of Dartmoor, the surface is thickly strewed with stones, which, in many instances, appear to have been collected into piles, on the tops of prominent hillocks, as if in imitation of the natural Tors. The Stone-barrows of Dartmoor resemble the cairns of the Cheviot and Grampian hills, and those in Cornwall. - See COOKE's Topographical Survey of Devonshire. NOTE 2. And the rude arrow's barb remains to tell. Flint arrow-heads have occasionally been found upon Dart moor. NOTE 3. The chieftain's power—they had no bard, and died. Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona Multi; sed omnes illachrymabiles Urgentur, ignotique longa Nocte, carent quia vate sacro. - Horace. They had no Poet, and they died."-POPE's Translation. NOTE 4. There stands an altar of unsculptured stone. On the east of Dartmoor are some Druidical remains, one of which is a Cromlech, whose three rough pillars of granite support a ponderous table-stone, and form a kind of large irregular tripod. VOL. IV.- -20 NOTE 5. Bade the red cairn-fires blaze from every height. In some of the Druid festivals, fires were lighted on all the cairns and eminences around, by priests, carrying sacred torches. All the household fires were previously extinguished, and those who were thought worthy of such a privilege, were allowed to relight them with a flaming brand, kindled at the consecrated cairn-fire. NOTE 6. 'Twas then the captives of Britannia's war. The French prisoners, taken in the wars with Napoleon, were confined in a depôt on Dartmoor. NOTE 7. It lives in those soft accents, to the sky. In allusion to a plan for the erection of a great national schoolhouse on Dartmoor, where it was proposed to educate the children of convicts. WELSH MELODIES. INTRODUCTORY STANZAS. THE HARP OF WALES. INSCRIBED TO THE RUTHIN WELSH LITERARY SOCIETY. HARP of the mountain-land! sound forth again, As when the foaming Hirlas horn was crown'd, And warrior hearts beat proudly to the strain, And the bright mead at Owain's feast went round. Wake with the spirit and the power of yore! Harp of the ancient hills! be heard once more! Thy tones are not to cease! The Roman came O'er the blue waters with his thousand oars: Through Mona's oaks he sent the wasting flame; The Druid shrines lay prostrate on our shores: All gave their ashes to the wind and seaRing out, thou harp! he could not silence thee. Thy tones are not to cease!-The Saxon pass'd, His banners floated on Eryri's gales; But thou wert heard above the trumpet's blast, E'en when his towers rose loftiest o'er the vales! Thine was the voice that cheer'd the brave and free; They had their hills, their chainless hearts, and thee. 20* (233) |