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56 The odious foe of Morvyth’s bard, And all the bards of all our land. How oft with indignation sore I’ve fled the hunchbacked elf of yore, Humped like the crooked elder tree, The tyrant of the maid and me! Yon wild grey ship chafed by the tide, If e’er the sluggard mount her side, If e’er she take her watery road With such an inauspicious load, Alas! her flowing sails will sink, Deeply of ocean’s brine to drink, The spiral surges of the sea The raiment of her masts will be! Fling from her deck the luckless thing, And let the swine-souled monster sleep Beneath the quicksands of the deep! O generous billow, ocean’s wing! Soon wouldst thou pay the debt I owe To Jealousy, the poet’s foe. Like bird of ocean he would whirl From wave to wave, and shoal to shoal, As the wild surges fiercely curl Around the shores, O sordid soul! May Hwynyn, demon of the sea, Thy headsman on the voyage be! Oh, Rhys! illustrious warrior, thou Mayst free me from my foeman now; Let not the hollow boat divide The poet from his glorious bride :