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| To dream of a magpie, denotes much dissatisfaction and quarrels.The dreamer should guard well his conduct and speech after this dream.... Read more of Magpie at My Dreams.ca | Informational.ca Privacy |
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Wales PoetryThe Sick Man's DreamDans le solitaire bourgade, Revant a ses maux triste... Dafydd Ap Gwilym's Invocation To The Summer To Visit Glamorganshire, Where he spent many happy years at the hospitable mansion o... The Deluge * * * * * Whether to the east or west You go, wondr... The Dawn Streaking the mantle of deep night The rays of light ... May And November Sweet May, ever welcome! the palace of leaves Thy hand for... Dafydd Ap Gwilym To The White Gull Bird that dwellest in the spray, Far from mountain woods a... The Lament Op Llywarch Hen The bright hours return, and the blue sky is ringing ... The Shipwreck a Welsh Congregationalist Minister, and an eminent poet.... The Death Of Owain Lo! the youth, in mind a man, Daring in the battle's v... The Day Of Judgment was a native of Anglesea, and entered the Welsh Church... The Mountain Galloway My tried and trusty mountain steed, Of Aberteivi's hardy... The Golden Goblet, In Imitation Of Gothe There was a king in Mon, {62} A true lover to his grave; ... Translations From Miscellaneous Welsh Hymns Had I but the wings of a dove, To regions afar I'd repa... Gwilym Glyn And Ruth Of Dyffryn In the depth of yonder valley, Where the fields are bright... The Lord Of Clas The Lord of Clas to his hunting is gone, Over plain and... 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 Cuckoo's Tale Hail, bird of sweet melody, heav'n is thy home; With the... To The Nightingale river of that name was born at Mold, in Flintshire, in the... The Banks Of The Dee One morning in May, when soft breezes were blowing O'er... The Rose Of Llan Meilen Sweet Rose of Llan Meilen! you bid me forget That ever i... |
My Native CotCategory: The Sentimental. The white cot where I spent my youth Is on yon lofty mountain side, The stream which flowed beside the door Adown the mossy slope doth glide; The holly tree that hid one end Is shaken by the moaning wind, Like as it was in days of yore When 'neath its boughs I shade did find. Clear is the sky of morning tide, Bright is the season time of youth, Before the mid-day clouds appear, And fell deceit obliterates truth; Black tempest in the evening lowers, The rain descends with whirlwind force, And long ere midnight's hour nears Full is the heart of deep remorse. Where are my old companions dear, Who in those days with me did play? The green graves in the parish yard Will soon the mournful answer say: Farewell therefore ye pleasures light, Which in my youth I did enjoy, Dark evening's come with all its trials, And these the bliss of life destroy. Next: Under The Orchard Tree Previous: The Rose Of Llan Meilen
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