My Native Cot
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.
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A Bridal Song
Wilt thou not waken, bride of May, While the flowers are fresh, and the sweet bells chime? Listen, and learn from my roundelay, How all life's pilot-boats sailed one day, A match with time. Love sat on a lotus leaf afloat, And saw old... An Address To The Summer
of Llanbadarn Fawr, Cardiganshire, and was born about the year 1340. The bard was of illustrious lineage, and of handsome person. His poetical talent and personal beauty procured him the favourable notice of the fair sex; which, however, oc... An Ode On The Death Of Hoel
of the sixth century. He was himself a soldier, and distinguished himself at the battle of Cattraeth, fought between the Welsh and Saxons, in or about the year 560, but was disastrous to the former and especially to the bard, who was there t... An Ode To The Thunder
his bardic name of Dafydd Ionawr, was born in the year 1751 at Glanmorfa, near Towyn, Merionethshire, and died in 1827. He was educated at Ystradmeurig Grammar School, with a view to entering the Welsh Church, but his academic career was cut s... By The Rev Rees Prichard, Ma
... Childe Harold
"Oh Gwynedd, fast thy star declineth, Thy name is gone, thy rights invaded, And hopelessly the strong oak pineth, Where the tall sapling faded; The mountain eagle idly cowers Beside his slaughtered young, Our sons must bow to other power... Concerning The Divine Providence
... Dafydd Ap Gwilym To The White Gull
Bird that dwellest in the spray, Far from mountain woods away, Sporting,--blending with the sea, Like the moonbeam--gleamily. Wilt thou leave thy sparkling chamber Round my lady's tower to clamber? Thou shalt fairer charms behold Than Talie... 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 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 he... Dafydd Ap Gwilym's Invocation To The Summer To Visit Glamorganshire,
Where he spent many happy years at the hospitable mansion of Ivor Hael. The bard, speaking from the land of Wild Gwynedd, or North Wales, thus invokes the summer to visit the sweet pastoral county of Glamorgan with all its blessings: "And wilt ... Farewell To Wales
The voice of thy streams in my spirit I bear; Farewell; and a blessing be with thee, Greenland; In thy halls, thy hearths, in thy pure mountain air, On the strings of the harp and the minstrel's free hand; From the love of my soul with my tears... From The Hymns Of The Rev William Williams, Pantycelyn
he inherited from his ancestors, was born in the parish of Llanfair-on- the-hill, in Carmarthenshire, in the year 1717. He was educated for the ministry, and appointed to the Curacy of Llanwrtyd and Abergwesyn, in Breconshire, in 1740. After se... Glan Geirionydd
. One time upon a summer day I saunter'd on the shore Of swift Geirionydd's waters blue, Where oft I walked before In youth's bright season gone, And spent life's happiest morn In drawing from its crystal waves The trout beneath... Gwilym Glyn And Ruth Of Dyffryn
In the depth of yonder valley, Where the fields are bright and sunny, Ruth was nurtured fair and slender Neath a mother's eye so tender. Listening to the thrush's carols. Was her pleasure in her gambols, And ere she grew up a maiden Gwilym's... Llywarch Hen's Lament On Cynddylan
Taliesin in the sixth century. He was engaged at the battle of Cattraeth, where he witnessed the fall of three of his sons, and in the endless wars of that period. He had twenty four sons, all of whom were slain in battle in the bard's lifetime... May And November
Sweet May, ever welcome! the palace of leaves Thy hand for thy wild band of choristers weaves; Proud knight, that subduest with glory and power, Each glen into verdure, to joy every bower; That makest the wilderness laugh and rejoice, In the cha... My Father-land
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... My Native Cot
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... My Native Land
My soul is sad, my spirit fails, And sickness in my heart prevails, Whilst chill'd with grief, it mourns and wails For my old Native Land. Gold and wine have power to please, And Summer's pure and gentle breeze,-- But ye are dearer far... Ode To Cambria
Cambria, I love thy genius bold; Thy dreadful rites, and Druids old; Thy bards who struck the sounding strings, And wak'd the warlike souls of kings; Those kings who, prodigal of breath, Rush'd furious to the fields of death; Thy maids for pe... Old Morgan And His Wife
Hus.--Jane, tell me have you fed the pigs, Their cry is not so fine: And if you have not, don't delay, 'Tis nearly half-past nine. Wife.--There, now your noisy din begins, Ding, ding, and endless ding, I do believe your scolding voice Me t... Pennillion
Cymry, and was much practised in the houses of the Welsh gentry. The pennillion were sung by one voice to the harp, and followed a quaint air which was not only interesting, but owing to its peculiarity, it set forth in a striking manner the hum... Roderic's Lament
Farewell every mountain To memory dear, Each streamlet and fountain Pelucid and clear; Glad halls of my father, From banquets ne'er freed, Where chieftains would gather To quaff the bright mead, Each valley and woodland Whose ... Sad Died The Maiden
Sad died the Maiden! and heaven only knew The anguish she felt in expiring, The moonbeams were weeping the evening dew When the life of the Maiden was sinking. Sad died the Maiden! beside the fast door, With her head resting low on th... Short Is The Life Of Man
Man's life, like any weaver's shuttle, flies, Or, like a tender flow'ret, droops and dies, Or, like a race, it ends without delay, Or, like a vapour, vanishes away, Or, like a candle, in each moment wastes, Or, like a packet under sail, it has... Snowdon
King of the mighty hills! thy crown of snow Thou rearest in the clouds, as if to mock The littleness of human things below; The tempest cannot harm thee, and the shock Of the deep thunder falls upon thy head As the light footfalls of an in... Song Of The Foster-son, Love
I got a foster-son, whose name was Love, From one endued with beauty from above. To bring him up with fond and _tender_ care-- Was an obligation from my fair.-- And for the guileless, beaming star's sweet sake Him to my bosom did I kindly ... Song To Arvon
by the Rev. Evan Evans, a Clergyman of the Church of England, better known by his bardic name of _Ieuan Glan Geirionydd_. He was born in 1795 at a freehold of his father, situate on the banks of the river Geirionydd, in Carnarvonshire, and die... Taliesin's Prophecy
A voice from time departed, yet floats thy hills among, O Cambria! thus thy prophet bard, thy Taliesin sung, The path of unborn ages is trac'd upon my soul, The clouds, which mantle things unseen, away before me roll. A light, the depths re... That Had Been Converted Into A May-pole In The Town Of Llanidloes, In Montgomeryshire
Ah! birch tree, with the verdant locks, And reckless mind--long hast thou been A wand'rer from thy native rocks; With canopy of tissue green, And stem that 'mid the sylvan scene A sceptre of the forest stood-- Thou art a traitress to the wood... The Banks Of The Dee
One morning in May, when soft breezes were blowing O'er Dee's pleasant tide with a ripple and swell, A shepherdess tended her flock that was feeding Upon the green meadows that lay in the dell, Her blue eye she raised, and she looked all ar... The Bard's Long-tried Affection For Morfydd
All my lifetime I have been Bard to Morfydd, "golden mien!" I have loved beyond belief, Many a day to love and grief For her sake have been a prey, Who has on the moon's array! Pledged my truth from youth will now To the girl of glossy bro... The Battle Of Gwenystrad
contemporary of Aneurin in the sixth century. He appears to have been a native of Cardiganshire, for we find him at an early age living at the court of Gwyddno, a petty king of Cantre y Gwaelod, who appointed him his chief bard and tutor to ... The Castles Of Wales
Ye fortresses grey and gigantic I see on the hills of my land, To my mind ye appear terrific, When I muse on your ruins so grand; Your walls were a shelter the strongest From the enemies' countless array, When they spilt with the blo... The Circling Of The Mead Horns
Fill the blue horn, the blue buffalo horn: Natural is mead in the buffalo horn: As the cuckoo in spring, as the lark in the morn, So natural is mead in the buffalo horn. As the cup of the flower to the bee when he sips, Is the full cup of mead... The Cuckoo's Tale
Hail, bird of sweet melody, heav'n is thy home; With the tidings of summer thy bright pinions roam-- The summer that thickens with foliage the glade, And lures to the woodland the poet and maid. Sweet as "sack," gentle bird, is thy beautiful vo... The Dawn
Streaking the mantle of deep night The rays of light arise, Delightful day--shed by the sun-- Breaks forth from eastern skies, He--in his course o'er oceans vast And distant lands--returns Firm to his purpose, true his way, He na...