Welsh Journals

LI GRUFFUDD GRYG ADDRESSES THE YEW TREE ABOVE THE POET'S GRAVE At Ystrad Fflur, beside the hall, There grows a yew against the wall. God bless the yew, for it is bliss To be the house where Dafydd is; 5 So much of fame the yew tree has From that great beauty which his youth was. King David said, before you grew, That you would be the poet's yew, And consecrate to be his home 10 Your leaves, when he to dust should come; Death's fort against the wind and snow, Like his own trees of years ago, And being Dafydd, he deserved a house Of your branches and your roots and boughs. 15 Silent beneath those roots you have- I could not will it!-a narrow grave Where a brave man lies and a bee-hive where The angels of the world consorted are. And when that voice and that great heart, 20 Which loved the trees, were laid apart, Which living were the light on Dyddgu's brow, She grieved; her poet is silent now.