LXXXI.

Blessed Conqueror, of temper mild, the strength {184d} of his people, With his blue streamers displayed towards the sea-roving foes. {185a} Brave is he on the waters, most numerous his host; Manly his bosom, loud his shout in the charge of arms. Usual was it for him {185b} to make a descent before nine armaments, {185c} With propulsive strokes, {185d} in the face of blood and of the country. I love thy victorious throne, which teemed with harmonious strains. O Cynddilig of Aeron, {185e} thou lion's whelp.