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| A young couple got married and left on their honeymoon. When they got back, the bride immediately called her mother. "Well, how was the honeymoon?" asked the mother. "Oh mamma!" she exclaimed. "The honeymoon was wonderful! So romantic!" N... Read more of The honeymoon is over at Free Jokes.ca | Informational Privacy |
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Wales PoetryTaliesin's ProphecyA voice from time departed, yet floats thy hills among,... The Cuckoo's Tale Hail, bird of sweet melody, heav'n is thy home; With the... The Hall Of Cynddylan The Hall of Cynddylan is gloomy to-night, I weep, for th... The Vengeance Of Owain {96} Gruffydd ab Cynan, Prince of Gwynedd, or North Wales, and ... Tribanau Serjeant Parry, the eminent barrister) says: "The followin... My Father-land Land of the Cymry! thou art still, In rock and valley, str... The Legend Of Trwst Llywelyn Once upon a time, Llywelyn was returning from a great battl... The Day Of Judgment was a native of Anglesea, and entered the Welsh Church... The Deluge * * * * * Whether to the east or west You go, wondr... The Rose Of The Glen Although I've no money or treasure to give, No palace or c... The Holly Grove Sweet holly grove, that soarest A woodland fort, an armed ... Translated By The Rev William Evans God doth withhold no good from those Who meekly fear him ... The Withered Leaf Dry the leaf above the stubble, Soon 'twill fall into ... May And November Sweet May, ever welcome! the palace of leaves Thy hand for... Childe Harold "Oh Gwynedd, fast thy star declineth, Thy name is gone, t... The Poor Man's Grave 'Neath the yew tree's gloomy branches, Rears a mound ... Gwilym Glyn And Ruth Of Dyffryn In the depth of yonder valley, Where the fields are bright... The Sick Man's Dream Dans le solitaire bourgade, Revant a ses maux triste... The Death Of Owain Lo! the youth, in mind a man, Daring in the battle's v... To The Spring Oh, come gentle spring, and visit the plain, Far scatte... |
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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