LVII.

No hall was ever made so faultless; Nor was there a lion so generous, a majestic lion on the path, so kind {158a} As Cynon of the gentle breast, the most comely lord. The fame {158b} of the city extends to the remotest parts; It was the staying {158c} shelter of the army, the benefit of flowing melody. {158d} Of those whom I have seen, or shall hereafter see On earth, engaged in arms, the battle cry, and war, {159a} the most heroic was he, Who slew the mounted ravagers with the keenest blade; Like rushes did they fall before his hand. O son of Clydno, {159b} of lasting {159c} fame! I will sing to thee A song of praise, without beginning, {159d} without end.