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Wales Poetry

The Mother To Her Child After Its Father's Death
My gentle child, thou dost not know Why still on thee ...

Roderic's Lament
Farewell every mountain To memory dear, Each streamlet...

The Battle Of Gwenystrad
contemporary of Aneurin in the sixth century. He appe...

To The Daisy
Oh, flower meek and modest That blooms of all the soonest,...

Taliesin's Prophecy
A voice from time departed, yet floats thy hills among,...

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

The Farmer's Prayer
poems of the "Good Vicar Prichard of Llandovery" would be ...

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

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

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

Ode To Cambria
Cambria, I love thy genius bold; Thy dreadful rites, and...

The Lament Op Llywarch Hen
The bright hours return, and the blue sky is ringing ...

Dafydd Ap Gwilym To The White Gull
Bird that dwellest in the spray, Far from mountain woods a...

Sad Died The Maiden
Sad died the Maiden! and heaven only knew The anguish s...

Tribanau
Serjeant Parry, the eminent barrister) says: "The followin...

Snowdon
King of the mighty hills! thy crown of snow Thou reares...

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

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

The Monarchy Of Britain
Sons of the Fair Isle! forget not the time, Ere spoilers h...

The Cuckoo's Tale
Hail, bird of sweet melody, heav'n is thy home; With the...



Short Is The Life Of Man






Category: 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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