The Bard's curse: "Ruin seize thee Ruthless King,"

Took bat-like form for hollow echo-flight.

Though stoned and lanced at, when, at fall of night,

It darted forth with ghastly—spreading wing,

It found in fresh, wide, royal ravishing,

New hollows, dark with horror and sad plight,

To dash in and live on. Oh, to my sight,

How grows its grimness, while eternaling!

Deep are the minds of Wales, but far more deep

The horror, gulfed out by McCreedy, firing

On men defenseless and, through want, expiring.

Oh, from that gulf the Bard's curse makes a sweep

Up to the Sun and, from its long desiring,

Grown eagle, shrieks to heaven from steep to step!