Son of Dyfed
Oh! Pwyll, lord of Dyfed, sounded his horn,
At Glyn Cuch, while hunting early morn,
The hounds were baying through the woodland glade,
And Pwyll could hear other dogs drawing near,
When he spied a stag standing in the shade,
He saw the dogs with hair of shining white,
With glistening ears of deep crimson red,
That pulled down the deer in the pale dawn light,
And Pwyll, he wanted to claim that stag’s head.
He saw off the dogs with his words of scorn,
And called his hounds who his voice obeyed,
And there they set upon the fallen deer,
As Pwyll watched, a horseman came into sight,
To look on the princely son of Dyfed.
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