He　is　likewise　said　to　have　been　a　great　libertine。　　The　following
  story　is　told　of　him：…
  〃In　a　certain　neighbourhood　he　had　a　great　many　mistresses；　some
  married　and　others　not。　　Once　upon　a　time；　in　the　month　of　June　he
  made　a　secret　appointment　with　each　of　his　lady…loves；　the　place
  and　hour　of　meeting　being　the　same　for　all；　each　was　to　meet　him　at
  the　same　hour　beneath　a　mighty　oak　which　stood　in　the　midst　of　a
  forest　glade。　　Some　time　before　the　appointed　hour　he　went；　and
  climbing　up　the　oak；　hid　himself　amidst　the　dense　foliage　of　its
  boughs。　　When　the　hour　arrived　he　observed　all　the　nymphs　tripping
  to　the　place　of　appointment；　all　came；　to　the　number　of　twenty…four
  …　not　one　stayed　away。　　For　some　time　they　remained　beneath　the　oak
  staring　at　each　other。　　At　length　an　explanation　ensued；　and　it
  appeared　that　they　had　all　come　to　meet　Ab　Gwilym。
  〃'Oh；　the　treacherous　monster！'　cried　they　with　one　accord；　'only
  let　him　show　himself　and　we　will　tear　him　to　pieces。'
  〃'Will　you？'　said　Ab　Gwilym　from　the　oak；　'here　I　am；　let　her　who
  has　been　most　wanton　with　me　make　the　first　attack　upon　me！'
  〃The　females　remained　for　some　time　speechless；　all　of　a　sudden；
  however；　their　anger　kindled；　not　against　the　bard；　but　against
  each　other。　　From　harsh　and　taunting　words　they　soon　came　to
  actions：　　hair　was　torn　off；　faces　were　scratched；　blood　flowed
  from　cheek　and　nose。　　Whilst　the　tumult　was　at　its　fiercest　Ab
  Gwilym　slipped　away。〃
  The　writer　merely　repeats　this　story；　and　he　repeats　it　as
  concisely　as　possible；　in　order　to　have　an　opportunity　of　saying
  that　he　does　not　believe　one　particle　of　it。　　If　he　believed　it；　he
  would　forthwith　burn　the　most　cherished　volume　of　the　small
  collection　of　books　from　which　he　derives　delight　and　recreation；
  namely；　that　which　contains　the　songs　of　Ab　Gwilym；　for　he　would
  have　nothing　in　his　possession　belonging　to　such　a　heartless
  scoundrel　as　Ab　Gwilym　must　have　been　had　he　got　up　the　scene　above
  described。　　Any　common　man　who　would　expose　to　each　other　and　the
  world　a　number　of　hapless；　trusting　females　who　had　favoured　him
  with　their　affections；　and　from　the　top　of　a　tree　would　feast　his
  eyes　upon　their　agonies　of　shame　and　rage；　would　deserve　to　be　…
  emasculated。　　Had　Ab　Gwilym　been　so　dead　to　every　feeling　of
  gratitude　and　honour　as　to　play　the　part　which　the　story　makes　him
  play；　he　would　have　deserved　not　only　to　be　emasculated；　but　to　be
  scourged　with　harp…strings　in　every　market…town　in　Wales；　and　to　be
  dismissed　from　the　service　of　the　Muse。　　But　the　writer　repeats
  that　he　does　not　believe　one　tittle　of　the　story；　though　Ab
  Gwilym's　biographer；　the　learned　and　celebrated　William　Owen；　not
  only　seems　to　believe　it；　but　rather　chuckles　over　it。　　It　is　the
  opinion　of　the　writer　that　the　story　is　of　Italian　origin；　and　that
  it　formed　part　of　one　of　the　many　rascally　novels　brought　over　to
  England　after　the　marriage　of　Lionel；　Duke　of　Clarence；　the　third
  son　of　Edward　the　Third；　with　Violante；　daughter　of　Galeazzo；　Duke
  of　Milan。
  Dafydd　Ab　Gwilym　has　been　in　general　considered　as　a　songster　who
  never　employed　his　muse　on　any　subject　save　that　of　love；　and　there
  can　be　no　doubt　that　by　far　the　greater　number　of　his　pieces　are
  devoted　more　or　less　to　the　subject　of　love。　　But　to　consider　him
  merely　in　the　light　of　an　amatory　poet　would　be　wrong。　　He　has
  written　poems　of　wonderful　power　on　almost　every　conceivable
  subject。　　Ab　Gwilym　has　been　styled　the　Welsh　Ovid；　and　with　great
  justice；　but　not　merely　because　like　the　Roman　he　wrote　admirably
  on　love。　　The　Roman　was　not　merely　an　amatory　poet：　　let　the　shade
  of　Pythagoras　say　whether　the　poet　who　embodied　in　immortal　verse
  the　oldest；　the　most　wonderful；　and　at　the　same　time　the　most
  humane；　of　all　philosophy　was　a　mere　amatory　poet。　　Let　the　shade
  of　blind　Homer　be　called　up　to　say　whether　the　bard　who　composed
  the　tremendous　line　…
  〃Surgit　ad　hos　clypei　dominus　septemplicis　Ajax〃　…
  equal　to　any　save　ONE　of　his　own；　was　a　mere　amatory　songster。
  Yet；　diversified　as　the　genius　of　the　Roman　was；　there　is　no
  species　of　poetry　in　which　he　shone　in　which　the　Welshman　may　not
  be　said　to　display　equal　merit。　　Ab　Gwilym；　then；　has　been　fairly
  styled　the　Welsh　Ovid。　　But　he　was　something　more　…　and　here　let
  there　be　no　sneers　about　Welsh：　　the　Welsh　are　equal　in　genius；
  intellect　and　learning　to　any　people　under　the　sun；　and　speak　a
  language　older　than　Greek；　and　which　is　one　of　the　immediate
  parents　of　the　Greek。　　He　was　something　more　than　the　Welsh　Ovid：
  he　was　the　Welsh　Horace；　and　wrote　light；　agreeable；　sportive
  pieces；　equal　to　any　things　of　the　kind　composed　by　Horace　in　his
  best　moods。　　But　he　was　something　more：　　he　was　the　Welsh　Martial；
  and　wrote　pieces　equal　in　pungency　to　those　of　the　great　Roman
  epigrammatist；　…　perhaps　more　than　equal；　for　we　never　heard　that
  any　of　Martial's　epigrams　killed　anybody；　whereas　Ab　Gwilym's　piece
  of　vituperation　on　Rhys　Meigan　…　pity　that　poets　should　be　so
  virulent　…　caused　the　Welshman　to　fall　down　dead。　　But　he　was　yet
  something　more：　　he　could；　if　he　pleased；　be　a　Tyrtaeus；　he　was　no
  fighter　…　where　was　there　ever　a　poet　that　was？　…　but　he　wrote　an
  ode　on　a　sword；　the　only　warlike　piece　that　he　ever　wrote；　the　best
  poem　on　the　subject　ever　written　in　any　language。　　Finally；　he　was
  something　more：　　he　was　what　not　one　of　the　great　Latin　poets　was；
  a　Christian；　that　is；　in　his　latter　days；　when　he　began　to　feel　the
  vanity　of　all　human　pursuits；　when　his　nerves　began　to　be　unstrung；
  his　hair　to　fall　off；　and　his　teeth　to　drop　out；　and　he　then
  composed　sacred　pieces　entitling　him　to　rank　with　…　we　were　going
  to　say　Caedmon；　had　we　done　so　we　should　have　done　wrong；　no
  uninspired　poet　ever　handled　sacred　subjects　like　the　grand　Saxon
  Skald　…　but　which　entitle　him　to　be　called　a　great　religious　poet；
  inferior　to　none　but　the　protege　of　Hilda。
  Before　ceasing　to　speak　of　Ab　Gwilym；　it　will　be　necessary　to　state
  that　his　amatory　pieces；　which　constitute　more　than　one…half　of　his
  productions；　must　be　divided　into　two　classes：　　the　purely　amatory
  and　those　only　partly　devoted　to　love。　　His　poems　to　Dyddgu　and　the
  daughter　of　Ifor　Hael　are　productions　very　different　from　those
  addressed　to　Morfudd。　　There　can　be　no　doubt　that　he　had　a　sincere
  affection　for　the　two　first；　there　is　no　levity　in　the　cowydds
  which　he　addressed　to　them；　and　he　seldom　introduces　any　other
  objects　than　those　of　his　love。　　But　in　his　cowydds　addressed　to
  Morfudd　is　there　no　levity？　　Is　Morfudd　ever　prominent？　　His
  cowydds　to　that　woman　abound　with　humorous　levity；　and　for　the　most
  part　have　far　less　to　do　with　her　than　with　natural　objects　…　the
  snow；　the　mist；　the　trees　of　the　forest；　the　birds　of　the　air；　and
  the　fishes　of　the　stream。　　His　first　piece　to　Morfudd　is　full　of
  levity　quite　inconsistent　with　true　love。　　It　states　how；　after
  seeing　her　for　the　first　time　at　Rhosyr　in　Anglesey；　and　falling　in
  love　with　her；　he　sends　her　a　present　of　wine　by　the　hands　of　a
  servant；　which　present　she　refuses；　casting　the　wine　contemptuously
  over　the　head　of　the　valet。　　This　commencement　promises　little　in
  the　way　of　true　passion；　so　that　we　are　not　disappointed　when　we
  read　a　little　farther　on　that　the　bard　is　dead　and　buried；　all　on
  account　of　love；　and　that　Morfudd　makes　a　pilgrimage　to　Mynyw　to
  seek　for　pardon　for　killing　him；　nor　when　we　find　him　begging　the
  popish　image　to　convey　a　message　to　her。　　Then　presently　we　almost
  lose　sight　of　Morfudd　amidst　birds；　animals　and　trees；　and　we　are
  not　sorry　that　we　do；　for　though　Ab　Gwilym　is　mighty　in　humour；
  great　in　describing　the　emotions　of　love　and　the　beauties　of　the
  lovely；　he　is　greatest　of　all　in　describing　objects　of　nature；
  indeed　in　describing　them　he　has　no　equal；　and　the　writer　has　no
  hesitation　in　saying　that　in　many　of　his　cowydds　in　which　he
  describes　various　objects　of　nature；　by　which　he　sends　messages　to
  Morfudd；　he　shows　himself　a　far　greater　poet　than　Ovid　appears　in
  any　one　of　his　Metamorphoses。　　There　are　many　poets　who　attempt　to
  describe　natural　objects　without　being　intimately　acquainted　with
  them；　but　Ab　Gwilym　was　not　one　of　these。　　No　one　was　better
  acquainted　with　nature；　he　was　a　stroller；　and　there　is　every
  probability　that　during　the　greater　part　of　the　summer　he　had　no
  other　roof　than　the　foliage；　and　that　the　voices　of　birds　and
  animals　were　more　familiar　to　his　ears　than　was　the　voice　of　man。
  During　the　summer　months；　indeed；　in　the　early　part　of　his　life；　he
  was；　if　we　may　credit　him；　generally　lying　perdue　in　the　woodland
  or　mountain　recesses　near　the　habitation　of　his　mistress；　before　or
  after　her　marriage；　awaiting　her　secret　visits；　made　whenever　she
  could　escape　the　vigilance　of　her　parents；　or　the　watchful　of　her
  husband；　and　during　her　absence　he　had　nothing　better　to　do　than　to
  observe　objects　of　nature　and　describe　them。　　His　ode　to　the　Fox；
  one　of　the　most　admirable　of　his　pieces；　was　composed　on　one　of
  these　occasions。
  Want　of　space　prevents　the　writer　from　saying