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Wales Poetry

Farewell To Wales
The voice of thy streams in my spirit I bear; Farewell; ...

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

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

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

The Immovable Covenant
the Welsh of Mr. H. Hughes, was a Minister in the Baptist ...

Dafydd Ap Gwilym's Invocation To The Summer To Visit Glamorganshire,
Where he spent many happy years at the hospitable mansion o...

The Poor Man's Grave
'Neath the yew tree's gloomy branches, Rears a mound ...

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

Ode To Cambria
Cambria, I love thy genius bold; Thy dreadful rites, and...

The Deluge
* * * * * Whether to the east or west You go, wondr...

The Rose Of Llan Meilen
Sweet Rose of Llan Meilen! you bid me forget That ever i...

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

Translated By The Rev William Evans
God doth withhold no good from those Who meekly fear him ...

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

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

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

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

Concerning The Divine Providence
...

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

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



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From me has now her heart withdrawn!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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