Beddgelert - (pron. Beth-gelert)

Beddgelert - (pron. Beth-gelert)

A Poem by David Lewis Paget

‘There once was a Prince called Llywelyn, Dai bach,

The Lord of this Snowdon Wales,

Back in the mists of the mountain, when times

Saw wolves leave their blood-stained trails.’

 

(I sat by the Church of St. Mary out there,

The vicar stared out on his fold,

His rheumy old eyes held the myth and the lies

That the Welsh told the people of old!)

 

I listened, he spoke, and I doubted him then,

The story he told so bizarre,

But when he had finished, I bated my breath,

Walked musingly back to my car.

 

Llywelyn, the hunter, was given a hound,

A present from England’s King John,

A mighty wolf hound that he treasured and took

On his hunting trips, loping along.

 

The Prince had an heir that was merely a babe,

Still swaddled in linens and veils,

The child was his joy, he’d been blessed with a boy,

He was one of the Princes of Wales.

 

Llywelyn went hunting abroad with his pack,

The hounds were all baying the way,

The buglers followed, their blasts on the horn

Drove the hogs that were leading the fray!

 

The hunt brought them venison, gammon and fowl,

The hunt brought them mutton and game,

But Gelert, the hound, was nowhere to be found

Though the Prince called, and bellowed his name.

 

Llywelyn rode back to the palace at dusk,

Dismounted and looked for his son,

The cot was all bloodstained, the covers were torn

And a sign of the child, there was none!

 

Then Gelert leapt up, and he greeted the Prince

With a loud joyous cry in the dark,

His fur was all bloodied, his teeth dripped with gore,

And Llywelyn shrank back at his bark.

 

In thinking his son had been slaughtered, the Prince

Cried out as he lifted his sword,

And ran through the hound as he fell to the ground

And he cursed and he cried, the good lord!

 

But then came an answering, pitiful cry

From the child that lay under a bed,

The boy was uncut, but was smeared with the blood

Of the wolf that lay next to him, dead!

 

The throat had been torn from the wolf by the hound,

Brave Gelert defended the son,

And now that the Prince held the child in his arms

He reflected on what he had done!

 

He cradled the body of Gelert and wept,

And buried in honour his hound,

He set up a stone with the tale that it told

And it stands there today, on its ground.

 

The place is Beddgelert, in Gwynedd, look you,

And hundreds of years have gone by,

But history tells us, Llewelyn the Great,

Was never again seen to smile!

 

David Lewis Paget

© 2012 David Lewis Paget


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Featured Review

a heartrending tale ...we often keep pets and claim to love them but never can return their loyalty the same...you wrote a tale in old english, in an ancient era but the truth reflects in modern society too...as for your write, as usual you are fantastic with an amazing plot and your awesome way of saying it in rhymes!

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

How quick we are to damn those irrespective of how faithful they have been, or for how long! How quick to leap to conclusions, based on circumstantial evidence! A most poignant indictment of those whose stated aim is to provide, protect and defend, but who are in truth as wanting, as weak and as defensive as the least of our clans!

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

One excellent piece, David. A brilliant, classical ode for sure.

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

What a wonderful, yet sad story! I can always count on you, David, to entertain me.

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I like the fact that it shows what men are like in times of fright and despair...logic and reasoning quick to judgement, trust and betrayal....loyalty it seems is easily taken away when not given evenly in return. Great work.

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Love it ! This is really outstanding !

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

A wonderful story. really took me in.

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

The passions of the father and his relation to his issue. Blood being thicker than water, would still set aside a friend, even if its man's best friend. Everybody makes mistakes, yes whoppers! Gelert, in sharing the phonetic with alert, points to a very suave teacher in the Welsh. Great write!

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

One of the great welsh tales wonderfully retold. Great work.

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Exquisite details drawn me in.

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

A beautiful retelling of a heartrending tale! I do love your choice of subjects and your lyrical style. Only one thing you may want to correct - I believe "bated" is the word meant in line 11 (as in held/softened breathing?). Wonderful poem, thank you for sharing it.

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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1327 Views
34 Reviews
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Added on February 9, 2012
Last Updated on February 12, 2012
Tags: Snowdon, Wales, Llywelyn, Gelert

Author

David Lewis Paget
David Lewis Paget

Moonta, South Australia, Australia



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