e ensues; {178i}
May the dependants of Gwynedd hear of his renown;
With his ashen shaft he pierces to the grave;
Pike of the conflict of Gwynedd,
Bull of the host, oppressor of the battle of princes; {179a}
Though thou hast kindled the land {179b} before thy fall,
At the extreme boundary {179c} of Gododin will be thy grave.

LXXV.

Involved in vapours was the man {179d} accustomed to armies,
High minded, bitter handed leader of the forces; {179e}
He was expert, and ardent, and stately,
Though at the social banquet he was not harsh. {180a}
They {180b} removed and possessed his valuable treasures,
And not the image of a thing for the benefit of the region was left.

LXXVI.

We are called! The sea and the borders are in conflict; {180c}
Spears are mutually darting, spears all equally destructive;
Impelled are sharp weapons of iron, {180d} gashing is the blade, {180e}
And with a clang the sock {180f} descends upon the pate;
A successful warrior was Fflamddwr {180g} against the enemy.

LXXVII.

He supported martial steeds and harness of war;
Drenched with gore, on the red-stained field of Cattraeth,
The foremost shaft in the host is held by the consumer of forts, {181a}
The brave {181b} dog of battle, upon the towering hill.
We are called to the gleaming {181c} post of assault,
By the beckoning hand {181d} of Heiddyn, {181e} the ironclad chief.

LXXVIII.

The sovereign, who is celebrated in the Gododin, {181f}
The sovereign, for whom our eye-lids {182a} weep,
From the raging flame of Eiddyn {182b} turned not aside; {182c}
He stationed men of firmness in command, {182d}
And the thick covering guard {182e} he placed in the van,
And vigorously he descended upon the scattered foe;
In that he had revelled, he likewise sustained the main weight;
Of the retinue of Mynyddawg, none escaped,
Save one man by slow steps, thoroughly weakened, and tottering every way.
{182f}

LXXIX.

Having sustained a loss, {182g} Moried bore no shield,
But traversed the strand {183a} to set the ground on fire;
Firmly he grasped in his hand a blue blade,
And a shaft ponderous as the chief priest's {183b} crozier;
He rode a grey stately {183c} headed charger,
And beneath his blade there was a dreadful fall of slaughter;
When overpowered {183d} he fled not from the battle,--
Even he who poured out to us the famous mead, that sweet ensnarer.

LXXX.

I beheld the array from the highland of Adowyn, {