Three Holes is not a bad game. To play it, you must make three small holes about four feet apart: then the first shot tries to shoot a marble into the first hole. If he gets in, he goes from that to the second, and then to the third hole, af... Read more of Three Holes at Games Kids Play.caInformational Site Network Informational.ca
Privacy
Home - Collection of Stories - Famous Stories - Short Stories - Wales Poetry

Wales Poetry

The Vengeance Of Owain {96}
Gruffydd ab Cynan, Prince of Gwynedd, or North Wales, and ...

To The Nightingale
river of that name was born at Mold, in Flintshire, in the...

My Native Cot
The white cot where I spent my youth Is on yon lofty mo...

The Fairy's Song
"Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy!"--SHAKSPEARE. ...

The Lament Op Llywarch Hen
The bright hours return, and the blue sky is ringing ...

To The Lark
"Sentinel of the morning light! Reveller of the...

The Sick Man's Dream
Dans le solitaire bourgade, Revant a ses maux triste...

An Ode On The Death Of Hoel
of the sixth century. He was himself a soldier, and d...

By The Rev Rees Prichard, Ma
...

Translations From Miscellaneous Welsh Hymns
Had I but the wings of a dove, To regions afar I'd repa...

Gwilym Glyn And Ruth Of Dyffryn
In the depth of yonder valley, Where the fields are bright...

An Ode To The Thunder
his bardic name of Dafydd Ionawr, was born in the year 1...

The Golden Goblet, In Imitation Of Gothe
There was a king in Mon, {62} A true lover to his grave; ...

The Mountain Galloway
My tried and trusty mountain steed, Of Aberteivi's hardy...

The Praise And Commendation Of A Good Woman
As a wise child excells the sceptr'd fool Who of conceit a...

The Grove Of Broom
The girl of nobler loveliness Than countess decked in go...

Woman
Gentle Woman! thou most perfect Work of the Divine Arc...

Pennillion
Cymry, and was much practised in the houses of the Welsh g...

The Flowers Of Spring
beautiful stanzas, from which the following translation ...

To The Spring
Oh, come gentle spring, and visit the plain, Far scatte...



A Bridal Song






Category: The Beautiful.

Wilt thou not waken, bride of May,
While the flowers are fresh, and the sweet bells chime?
Listen, and learn from my roundelay,
How all life's pilot-boats sailed one day,
A match with time.

Love sat on a lotus leaf afloat,
And saw old time in his loaded boat;
Slowly he crossed life's narrow tide,
While love sat clapping his wings and cried,
"Who will pass time?"

Patience came first, but soon was gone
With helm and sail to help time on;
Care and grief could not lend an oar,
And prudence said while he staid on shore,
"I will wait for time."

Hope filled with flowers her cork tree bark,
And lighted its helm with a glow worm spark;
Then love, when he saw her bark fly fast,
Said, "Lingering time will soon be passed,
Hope outspeeds time."

Wit, next nearest old time to pass,
With his diamond oar, and his boat of glass;
A feathery dart from his store he drew,
And shouted, while far and swift it flew,
"O mirth kills time."

But time sent the feathery arrow back,
Hope's boat of amaranths missed its track;
Then love made his butterfly pilots move,
And, laughing, said, "They shall see how love
Can conquer time."

His gossamer sails he spread with speed,
But time has wings when time has need;
Swiftly he crossed life's sparkling tide,
And only memory stayed to chide
Unpitying time.

Wake, and listen then bride of May,
Listen and heed thy minstrel's rhyme;
Still for thee some bright hours stay,
For it was a hand like thine, they say,
Gave wings to time.





Next: The Legend Of Trwst Llywelyn
Previous: Dafydd Ap Gwilym's Invocation To The Summer To Visit Glamorganshire,


Add to del.icio.us Add to Reddit Add to Digg Add to Del.icio.us Add to Google Add to Furl Add to Stumble Upon
Add to Informational Site Network
Report
Privacy
SHAREBOOKMARK


Viewed 315


Untitled Document