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Wales Poetry

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

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

Dafydd Ap Gwilym's Address To Morfydd After She Married His Rival
Too long I've loved the fickle maid, My love is turned to ...

Concerning The Divine Providence

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

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

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

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

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

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

To May
the following and several other poems in this collection. ...

The Shipwreck
a Welsh Congregationalist Minister, and an eminent poet....

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

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

The Lord Of Clas
The Lord of Clas to his hunting is gone, Over plain and...

By The Rev Rees Prichard, Ma

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

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

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

My Father-land
Land of the Cymry! thou art still, In rock and valley, str...

My Father-land

Category: The Patriotic.

Land of the Cymry! thou art still,
In rock and valley, stream and hill,
As wild and grand;
As thou hast been in days of yore,
As thou hast ever been before,
As thou shalt be for evermore,
My Father-land!

Where are the bards, like thine, who've sung
The warrior's praise? the harp hath strung,
With mighty hand?
Made chords of magic sound arise,
That flung their echoes through the skies,
And gained the fame that never dies,
My Father-land?

And where are warriors like thine own,
Who in the battle's front have shown
So firm a stand?
Who fought against the Romans' skill,
"The conquerors of the world," until
They found thou wert "invincible,"
My Father-land?

And where are hills like thine, or where
Are vales so sweet, or scenes so fair,
Such praise command?
There towering Snowdon, first in height,
Or Cader Idris, dreary sight,
And lonely Clwyd? Oh! how bright,
My Father-land!

Oh! how I love thee, though I mourn
That cold neglect should on thee turn,
Thy name to brand;
And oft the scalding tear will start
Raining its dew-drops from the heart,
To think how far we are apart,
My Father-land.

And when my days are almost done,
And, faltering on, I've nearly run
Life's dreary sand;
Still, still my fainting breath shall be
Bestowed upon thy memory,
My soul shall wing its way to thee,
My Father-land!

Next: My Native Land

Previous: Walter Sele

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