Four white trefoils sprang up wherever she trod." A touch of pure fancy such as this removes its object out of the sphere of passion into one of delight and reverence.
[Sidenote: The Bards] It is strange to pass from the world of actual Welsh history into such a world as this.

But side by side with this wayward, fanciful stream of poesy and romance ran a torrent of intenser song.

The spirit of the earlier bards, their joy in battle, their love of freedom, broke out anew in ode after ode, in songs extravagant, monotonous, often prosaic, but fused into poetry by the intense fire of patriotism which glowed within them.

Every fight, every hero had its verse.

The names of older singers, of Taliesin, Aneurin, and Llywarch Hen, were revived in bold forgeries to animate the national resistance and to prophesy victory.