[Lavengro by George Borrow]@TWC D-Link bookLavengro CHAPTER XIX 5/7
I was studying Welsh, and I fell in with Ab Gwilym by no very strange chance.
But before I say more about Ab Gwilym, I must be permitted--I really must--to say a word or two about the language in which he wrote, that same "Sweet Welsh." If I remember right, I found the language a difficult one; in mastering it, however, I derived unexpected assistance from what of Irish remained in my head, and I soon found that they were cognate dialects, springing from some old tongue which itself, perhaps, had sprung from one much older.
And here I cannot help observing cursorily that I every now and then, whilst studying this Welsh, generally supposed to be the original tongue of Britain, encountered words which, according to the lexicographers, were venerable words, highly expressive, showing the wonderful power and originality of the Welsh, in which, however, they were no longer used in common discourse, but were relics, precious relics, of the first speech of Britain, perhaps of the world; with which words, however, I was already well acquainted, and which I had picked up, not in learned books, classic books, and in tongues of old renown, but whilst listening to Mr. Petulengro and Tawno Chikno talking over their everyday affairs in the language of the tents; which circumstance did not fail to give rise to deep reflection in those moments when, planting my elbows on the deal desk, I rested my chin upon my hands.
But it is probable that I should have abandoned the pursuit of the Welsh language, after obtaining a very superficial acquaintance with it, had it not been for Ab Gwilym. A strange songster was that who, pretending to be captivated by every woman he saw, was, in reality, in love with nature alone--wild, beautiful, solitary nature--her mountains and cascades, her forests and streams, her birds, fishes, and wild animals.
Go to, Ab Gwilym, with thy pseudo-amatory odes, to Morfydd, or this or that other lady, fair or ugly; little didst thou care for any of them, Dame Nature was thy love, however thou mayest seek to disguise the truth.
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