Liberal hand and open heart.

Big with hosts of mighty name,
Squadrons three against him came; 10
This the force of Eirin hiding;
Side by side as proudly riding
On her shadow long and gay
Lochlin[2] ploughs the watery way;
There the Norman sails afar
Catch the winds and join the war;
Black and huge, along they sweep,
Burthens of the angry deep.

Dauntless on his native sands
The Dragon son[3] of Mona stands; 20
In glittering arms and glory dress'd,
High he rears his ruby crest;
There the thundering strokes begin,
There the press and there the din:
Talymalfra's rocky shore
Echoing to the battle's roar!
Check'd by the torrent-tide of blood,
Backward Meniai rolls his flood;
While, heap'd his master's feet around,
Prostrate warriors gnaw the ground. 30
Where his glowing eye-balls turn,
Thousand banners round him burn;
Where he points his purple spear,
Hasty, hasty rout is there;
Marking, with indignant eye,