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Rh

Then spread ye the feast, bid the wine-cup foam high,* That those may rejoice who have fear'd not to die!

Let the horn, whose loud blast gave the signal for fight, With the bee's sunny nectar now sparkle in light,† Let the rich draught it offers with gladness be crown'd, For the strong hearts, in combat that leap'd at its sound! Like the billow's dark swell, was the path of their might, Red, red as their blood, fill the wine-cup on high, That those may rejoice who have fear'd not to die!

And wake ye the children of song from their dreams, On Maelor's wild hills, and by Dyfed's fair streams!‡.