The dawn smiles, repelling gloom,
At the dawn with violence,
At every meet season,
At the meet season of his turnings,
At the four stages of his course,
I will extol him that judges violence,
Of the strong din, deep his wrath.
I am not a man, cowardly, gray,
A scum near the wattle. (Taliesin)

The dawn smiles, repelling gloom, At the dawn with violence, At every meet season, At the meet season of his turnings, At the four stages of his course, I will extol him that judges violence, Of the strong din, deep his wrath. I am not a man, cowardly, gray, A scum near the wattle.

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