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Rh All birds that skim the mountain’s head Please thy white paunch and lordly gums; Though wisdom dwells in thine own yellow sconce, Yet, reynard, list to friendly tale for once: The beauteous Elen of my heart, Fair as the waxen forms of art, I love with all devotion true— But, ah! another loves her too! A rival—mid wild Snowdon dwelling, A minstrel of his Awen vain, But still a bard, most bards excelling,— Of him, sir envoy, I complain! Dog of the earth, three choicest geese, With a good lamb of fairest fleece, To thee I’ll give—then mid the fern, By Dol thy wages neatly earn; But be penurious of thy sounds, Beware of Eithig and his hounds! And when the worm-fed bird appears, Then homeward chase from grove to grove, And seize and slay with dental sheers, The bright deluder of my love!