FILL high the blue hirlas, that shines like the wave, When sunbeams are bright on the spray of the sea; And bear thou the rich foaming mead to the brave, The dragons of battle, the sons of the free! To those from whose spears, in the shock of the fight, A beam, like heaven's lightning, flashed over the field; To those who came rushing as storms in their might, Who have shivered the helmet, and cloven the shield; The sound of whose strife was like oceans afar, When lances were red from the harvest of war. Fill high the blue hirlas! O cup-bearer, fill For the lords of the field in their festival's hour, And let the mead foam, like the stream of the hill That bursts o'er the rock in the pride of its power: Praise, praise to the mighty, fill high the smooth horn Of honor and mirth, for the conflict is o'er; And round let the golden-tipped hirlas be borne To the lion-defenders of Gwynedd's fair shore. Who rushed to the field where the glory was one, As eagles that soar from their cliffs to the sun. Fill higher the hirlas! forgetting not those Who share its bright draught in the days that are fled! Though cold on their mountains the valiant repose, Their lot shall be lovely -- renown to the dead! While harps in the hall of the feast shall be strung, While regal Eryri with snow shall be crowned -- So long by the bards shall their battles be sung, And the heart of the hero shall burn at the sound. The free winds of Maelor shall swell with their name, And Owain's rich hirlas be filled to their fame. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PRAYER FOR COURAGE by LOUIS UNTERMEYER HOW TO KNOW LOVE FROM DECEIT by WILLIAM BLAKE BIANCA AMONG THE NIGHTINGALES by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE CRY OF THE HUMAN by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE BRAVE OLD OAK by HENRY FOTHERGILL CHORLEY CHRISTMAS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR AN OLD SWEETHEART [OF MINE] by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY |