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Wales PoetryThe Withered LeafDry the leaf above the stubble, Soon 'twill fall into ... Sad Died The Maiden Sad died the Maiden! and heaven only knew The anguish s... Farewell To Wales The voice of thy streams in my spirit I bear; Farewell; ... The Song Of The Fisherman's Wife Restless wave! be still and quiet, Do not heed the win... The Banks Of The Dee One morning in May, when soft breezes were blowing O'er... The Circling Of The Mead Horns Fill the blue horn, the blue buffalo horn: Natural is mead... The World And The Sea: A Comparison Like the world and its dread changes Is the ocean when it ... An Ode To The Thunder his bardic name of Dafydd Ionawr, was born in the year 1... The Monarchy Of Britain Sons of the Fair Isle! forget not the time, Ere spoilers h... The Shipwreck a Welsh Congregationalist Minister, and an eminent poet.... The Cuckoo's Tale Hail, bird of sweet melody, heav'n is thy home; With the... Roderic's Lament Farewell every mountain To memory dear, Each streamlet... That Had Been Converted Into A May-pole In The Town Of Llanidloes, In Montgomeryshire Ah! birch tree, with the verdant locks, And reckless min... The Holly Grove Sweet holly grove, that soarest A woodland fort, an armed ... The Poor Man's Grave 'Neath the yew tree's gloomy branches, Rears a mound ... To The Lark "Sentinel of the morning light! Reveller of the... Song To Arvon by the Rev. Evan Evans, a Clergyman of the Church of Eng... The Eisteddfod, Strike the harp: awake the lay! Let Cambria's voice be h... My Native Land My soul is sad, my spirit fails, And sickness in my he... The Deluge * * * * * Whether to the east or west You go, wondr... |
An Ode On The Death Of HoelCategory: The Patriotic. of the sixth century. He was himself a soldier, and distinguished himself at the battle of Cattraeth, fought between the Welsh and Saxons, in or about the year 560, but was disastrous to the former and especially to the bard, who was there taken prisoner, and kept for several years in confinement. He composed his principal poem, the Gododin, upon the battle of Cattraeth. This is the oldest Welsh poem extant, and is full of boldness, force, and martial fire. It has been translated into English by the Rev. John Williams, (ab Ithel,) and published by the Messrs. Rees, of Llandovery. The bard died, according to tradition, from the blow of an assassin before the close of the sixth century.] Had I but the torrent's might, With headlong rage, and wild affright, Upon Deira's squadrons hurl'd, To rush and sweep them from the world! Too, too secure in youthful pride, By them my friend, my Hoel, dy'd, Great Cian's son; of Madoc old, He ask'd no heaps of hoarded gold; Alone in Nature's wealth array'd He asked and had the lovely maid. To Cattraeth's vale, in glitt'ring row, Twice two hundred warriors go; Ev'ry warrior's manly neck Chains of regal honour deck, Wreath'd in many a golden link: From the golden cup they drink Nectar that the bees produce, Or the grape's ecstatic juice. Flush'd with mirth and hope they burn, But none from Cattraeth's vale return, Save Aeron brave and Conan strong, (Bursting through the bloody throng,) And I, the meanest of them all, That live to weep and sing their fall. Next: The Death Of Owain Previous: Ode To Cambria
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