Wales Poetry

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

The Withered Leaf
Dry the leaf above the stubble, Soon 'twill fall into ...

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

The Swan
Thou swan, upon the waters bright, In lime-hued vest, like...

To The Daisy
Oh, flower meek and modest That blooms of all the soonest,...

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

The Bard's Long-tried Affection For Morfydd
All my lifetime I have been Bard to Morfydd, "golden m...

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

The Song Of The Fisherman's Wife
Restless wave! be still and quiet, Do not heed the win...

An Address To The Summer
of Llanbadarn Fawr, Cardiganshire, and was born about ...

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

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

The World And The Sea: A Comparison
Like the world and its dread changes Is the ocean when it ...

Twenty Third Psalm
My shepherd is the Lord above, Who ne'er will suffer me to...

Dafydd Ap Gwilym To The White Gull
Bird that dwellest in the spray, Far from mountain woods a...

The Ewe
So artless art thou, gentle ewe! Thy aspect kindles...

Old Morgan And His Wife
Hus.--Jane, tell me have you fed the pigs, Their cry is ...

The Cuckoo's Tale
Hail, bird of sweet melody, heav'n is thy home; With the...

The Mother To Her Child After Its Father's Death
My gentle child, thou dost not know Why still on thee ...

The Dawn
Streaking the mantle of deep night The rays of light ...

Dafydd Ap Gwilym's Address To Morfydd After She Married His Rival

Category: The Religious.

Too long I've loved the fickle maid,
My love is turned to grief and pain;
In vain delusive hopes I stray'd,
Through days that ne'er will dawn again;
And she, in beauty like the dawn,
From me has now her heart withdrawn!
A constant suitor--on her ear
My sweetest melodies I pour'd;
Where'er she wander'd I was near;
For her whose face my soul ador'd
My wealth I madly spent in wine,
And gorgeous jewels of the mine.
I deck'd her arms with lovely chains,
With bracelets wove of slender gold;
I sang her charms in varied strains,
Her praise to every minstrel told:
The bards of distant Keri know
That she is spotless as the snow.
These proofs of love I hoped might bind
My Morfydd to be ever true:
Alas! to deep despair consign'd,
My bosom's blighted hopes I rue,
And the base craft that gave her charms,
Oh, anguish! to another's arms!





Next: From The Hymns Of The Rev William Williams, Pantycelyn
Previous: The Cuckoo's Tale

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