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Wales Poetry

Glan Geirionydd
. One time upon a summer day I saunter'd on the shor...

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

Taliesin's Prophecy
A voice from time departed, yet floats thy hills among,...

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

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

The Castles Of Wales
Ye fortresses grey and gigantic I see on the hills of...

Childe Harold
"Oh Gwynedd, fast thy star declineth, Thy name is gone, t...

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

The Death Of Owain
Lo! the youth, in mind a man, Daring in the battle's v...

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

The Battle Of Gwenystrad
contemporary of Aneurin in the sixth century. He appe...

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

The Faithful Maiden
At the dawning of day on a morning in May, When the bi...

May And November
Sweet May, ever welcome! the palace of leaves Thy hand for...

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

Concerning The Divine Providence
...

Song Of The Foster-son, Love
I got a foster-son, whose name was Love, From one endu...

Short Is The Life Of Man
Man's life, like any weaver's shuttle, flies, Or, like a t...

The Legend Of Trwst Llywelyn
Once upon a time, Llywelyn was returning from a great battl...

Llywarch Hen's Lament On Cynddylan
Taliesin in the sixth century. He was engaged at the batt...



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From me has now her heart withdrawn!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

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