midnight
He dived very deep , but he dived all in vain , The prize he had slighted he found not again ; Many times did the friar his diving renew , And deeper and deeper the river still grew . Gwenwynwyn gazed long , of his senses in doubt , To see the grey friar a diver so stout ; Then sadly and slowly his castle he sought , And left the friar diving , like dabchick distraught . Gwenwynwyn fell sick with alarm and despite , Died , and went to the devil , the very same night ; The magnanimous heroes he held in his pay Sacked his castle , and marched with the plunder away . No knell on the silence of midnight was rolled For the flight of the soul of Gwenwynwyn the Bold . The brethren , unfeed , let the mighty ghost pass , Without praying a prayer , or intoning a mass . The friar haunted ever beside the dark stream ; The philosopher 's stone was his thought and his dream : And day after day , ever head under heels He dived all the time he could spare from his meals . He dived , and he dived , to the end of his days , As the peasants oft witnessed with fear and amaze .