The Lay of Llewellyn

The Lay of Llewellyn, written by Colonel Evan Graham of Montrose

My Lords and My Ladies, I pray you attend me,
Ill word from high Braechnach, to Caer Dyff Bides Keen, (spelling?)
Our good prince Llewellyn has been waylaid up country,
In court and in castle, no more to be seen.

Do our grandsires remember, that day in their boyhood
When the knights of the realm raised Llewellyn the Young?
On the throne, in the saddle, he has aged less than we have,
Now a grim age is on us for Llewellyn is gone.

Do our fathers remember how the prince brought us victory,
over scotties, slavyenkas, and horningane dutch? (spelling?)
From Morganic to Caer Ididien, he has made safe the marchlands, (spelling?)
His claymore in battle we shall miss very much.

To a scheming imperium, it seemed that Llewellyn,
So skilled at arms and popular, did threaten their reign,
So regiments of men did band, and assassins tried their hand,
but the prince of Kimgernach could not be brought down. (spelling?)

Now the passes of the Beacons of Brechnach are treacherous, (spelling?)
Where the snows lie all year under grim cliffs of stone,
Mercenaries hidden there, massacred the prince's men,
Leaving Llewellyn to fight on alone.

Surrender Lord, the herald cried, give over that claymore,
That the elves made for moksan, centuries ago, (spelling?)
In the name of your overlord, I bid ye hand ore your sword,
Your long war is over, with us ye shall go.

To surrender would dishonor me, the prince told the herald,
Think ye, ye've cornered me, with no place to run?
Best that ye take care yourselves, if you know the power of elves,
And as for the war it has scarcely begun.

He lifted high, by hilt and blade, three spans of sword of state,
He spoke aloud so clear and high, in a grim tongue unknown,
Stone was smote, there was fire and smoke, the soldiers formation broke,
And sword, prince, and part of the mountain were gone.

Where did Llewellyn go, when he destroyed his blade,
On that lonely ridge near Kevnyberg, in his moment of doom, (spelling?)
Is he watching from some magic glad, or'e the land his power made,
Or is he forever shut in a tomb.

My Lords and My Ladies, I pray you attend me,
Ill word from high Braechnach, to Caer Dyff Bides Keen, (spelling?)
Our good prince Llewellyn has been waylaid in the mountains,
In court and in castle, no more to be seen.

Music

There were two different melodies for the verses. Some verses were the A melody, and some the B melody.

Notes

I typed this as I remember it. The names are semi-phonetic, as they sound in my head. I believe the place names and people are historical, and the correct spelling could be discovered.