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strange legends of the Welsh Princes, and of the bards who sang their praises bower and hall, till the proud foot of the conqueror had polluted both, and left the bard to sing his death-wail over the slain.
Throughout the country we are reminded of the strict nationality of the Welsh, so conservatively maintained in weal and woe. They call themselves in Cymri, literally aborigines, and unlike the English they ar ean unmixed race. They cling tenaciously to all that marks their distinction from others, and effectually cherish the memories of their brave ancestors and ours :-old feuds, however, are now happily forgotten; and in British interests, in peace or war, in all that can advance our prosperity as a nation, loyally devoted to our Queen-each Welshman is ready to carry out the sentiment which the Prince of Wales has for his legend-ICH DIEN.