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Wales PoetryGwilym Glyn And Ruth Of Dyffryn
In the depth of yonder valley, Where the fields are bright...
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 Poor Man's Grave
'Neath the yew tree's gloomy branches, Rears a mound ...
Sad Died The Maiden
Sad died the Maiden! and heaven only knew The anguish s...
Thou swan, upon the waters bright, In lime-hued vest, like...
Streaking the mantle of deep night The rays of light ...
"Oh Gwynedd, fast thy star declineth, Thy name is gone, t...
* * * * * Whether to the east or west You go, wondr...
Strike the harp: awake the lay! Let Cambria's voice be h...
To The Daisy
Oh, flower meek and modest That blooms of all the soonest,...
O'er Walter's bed no foot shall tread, Nor step unhallo...
The Circling Of The Mead Horns
Fill the blue horn, the blue buffalo horn: Natural is mead...
The Rose Of Llan Meilen
Sweet Rose of Llan Meilen! you bid me forget That ever i...
My Native Cot
The white cot where I spent my youth Is on yon lofty mo...
Serjeant Parry, the eminent barrister) says: "The followin...
The Grove Of Broom
The girl of nobler loveliness Than countess decked in go...
The Withered Leaf
Dry the leaf above the stubble, Soon 'twill fall into ...
The Rose Of The Glen
Although I've no money or treasure to give, No palace or c...
Under The Orchard Tree
Under the deep-laden boughs of the orchard Walks a maid...
To The Nightingale
river of that name was born at Mold, in Flintshire, in the...
Song To Arvon
Category: The Beautiful.
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 died in 1855. He composed a great
number of poems on different subjects, religious and patriotic, several
of which obtained prizes at Eisteddfodau, and one on the Resurrection
gained the chair or principal prize. This poet's compositions are
distinguished by great elegance, sweetness and pathos, and are much
esteemed in the Principality. Several of them have been set to music.]
Where doth the cuckoo early sing,
In woodland, dell and valley?
Where streamlets deep o'er rocky cliffs
Form cataracts so lofty?
On Snowdon's summits high,
In Arvon's pleasant county.
Flocks of thousand sheep are fed
Upon its mountains rugged,
Her pastures green and meadows fair
With cattle-herds are studded,
Deep are the lakes in Arvon's vales
Where fish in shoals are landed.
The shepherd's soft and mellow voice
Is heard upon her mountain,
Where oft he hums his rustic song
To his beloved maiden,
Resounding through the gorges deep
With bleat of sheep and oxen.
On Arvon's rock-bound shore doth break
The surge in fretful murmur,
And oft when stirr'd by tempest high
The ocean speaks in thunder,
Spreading through town and village wide
Dismay, despair and fear.
* * * * *
The sun is glorious when it breaks
The gloom of morning darkness,
Sweet are the leaves and flowers of May
Succeeding winter's baldness,
Yet fairer than the whole to me
Are Arvon's maids so guile-less.
If to the sick there is delight
To heal of his affliction,
If to the traveller's weary sight
Sweet is the destination,
Than all these sweeter far to me
The hills and dales of Arvon.
Had I the wings and speed of morn
To skim o'er mount and valley,
I'd hie o'er earth and sea direct
To Arvon's genial country,
And there in peace would end my days,
Far from deceit and envy.
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