younger gentleman, and was on the building of the second temple,
and, as far as I understood it, appeared to me to be exceedingly
good.

On the Monday evening, myself and family took a walk to the abbey.
My wife and daughter, who are fond of architecture and ruins, were
very anxious to see the old place. I too was anxious enough to see
it, less from love of ruins and ancient architecture, than from
knowing that a certain illustrious bard was buried in its
precincts, of whom perhaps a short account will not be unacceptable
to the reader.

This man, whose poetical appellation was Iolo Goch, but whose real
name was Llwyd, was of a distinguished family, and Lord of
Llechryd. He was born and generally resided at a place called Coed
y Pantwn, in the upper part of the Vale of Clwyd. He was a warm
friend and partisan of Owen Glendower, with whom he lived, at
Sycharth, for some years before the great Welsh insurrection, and
whom he survived, dying at an extreme old age beneath his own roof-
tree at Coed y Pantwn. He composed pieces of great excellence on
various subjects; but the most remarkable of his compositions are
decidedly certain ones connected with Owen Glendower. Amongst
these is one in which he describes the Welsh chieftain's mansion at
Sycharth, and his hospitable way of living at that his favourite
residence; and another in which he hails the advent of the comet,
which made its appearance in the month of March, fourteen hundred
and two, as of good augury to his darling hero.

It was from knowing that this distinguished man lay buried in the
precincts of the old edifice, that I felt so anxious to see it.