| A hundred years or more after the time of Alfred the Great there was a king of England named Ca-nute. King Canute was a Dane; but the Danes were not so fierce and cruel then as they had been when they were at war with King Alfred. The grea... Read more of KING CANUTE ON THE SEASHORE at Stories Poetry.com | Informational.caPrivacy |
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Wales PoetryThe Hall Of CynddylanThe Hall of Cynddylan is gloomy to-night, I weep, for th... From The Hymns Of The Rev William Williams, Pantycelyn he inherited from his ancestors, was born in the parish of... An Ode On The Death Of Hoel of the sixth century. He was himself a soldier, and d... The Golden Goblet, In Imitation Of Gothe There was a king in Mon, {62} A true lover to his grave; ... By The Rev Rees Prichard, Ma ... Woman Gentle Woman! thou most perfect Work of the Divine Arc... The Immovable Covenant the Welsh of Mr. H. Hughes, was a Minister in the Baptist ... Translations From Miscellaneous Welsh Hymns Had I but the wings of a dove, To regions afar I'd repa... To The Nightingale river of that name was born at Mold, in Flintshire, in the... 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... An Ode To The Thunder his bardic name of Dafydd Ionawr, was born in the year 1... The Eisteddfod, Strike the harp: awake the lay! Let Cambria's voice be h... My Father-land Land of the Cymry! thou art still, In rock and valley, str... The Shipwreck a Welsh Congregationalist Minister, and an eminent poet.... Short Is The Life Of Man Man's life, like any weaver's shuttle, flies, Or, like a t... A Bridal Song Wilt thou not waken, bride of May, While the flowers are... To May the following and several other poems in this collection. ... Song Of The Foster-son, Love I got a foster-son, whose name was Love, From one endu... Pennillion Cymry, and was much practised in the houses of the Welsh g... |
Short Is The Life Of ManCategory: The Religious. 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 hastes, Or, like a courier, travels very fast, Or, like the shadow of a cloud, 'tis past. Strong is our foe, but very weak the fort, Our death is certain, and our time is short; But as the hour of death's a secret still, Let us be ready, come He when he will. Next: Concerning The Divine Providence Previous: Twenty Third Psalm
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