The saints {178a} exert their courage, {178b} for the destruction of thy
retreat, {178c}
And the cellar, {178d} which contained, and where was brewed {178e}
The mead, that sweet ensnarer.
With the dawn does Gwrys {178f} make the battle clash;
Fair gift, {178g}--marshal of the Lloegrian tribes; {178h}
Penance he inflicts until repentance ensues; {178i}
May the dependants of Gwynedd hear of his renown;
With his ashen shaft he pierces to the grave;
Pike of the conflict of Gwynedd,
Bull of the host, oppressor of the battle of princes; {179a}
Though thou hast kindled the land {179b} before thy fall,
At the extreme boundary {179c} of Gododin will be thy grave.