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Wales PoetryThe Lament Op Llywarch HenThe bright hours return, and the blue sky is ringing ... The Legend Of Trwst Llywelyn Once upon a time, Llywelyn was returning from a great battl... The Rose Of The Glen Although I've no money or treasure to give, No palace or c... Song Of The Foster-son, Love I got a foster-son, whose name was Love, From one endu... The Deluge * * * * * Whether to the east or west You go, wondr... An Address To The Summer of Llanbadarn Fawr, Cardiganshire, and was born about ... The Castles Of Wales Ye fortresses grey and gigantic I see on the hills of... The Death Of Owain Lo! the youth, in mind a man, Daring in the battle's v... The Lord Of Clas The Lord of Clas to his hunting is gone, Over plain and... Pennillion Cymry, and was much practised in the houses of the Welsh g... Glan Geirionydd . One time upon a summer day I saunter'd on the shor... The Immovable Covenant the Welsh of Mr. H. Hughes, was a Minister in the Baptist ... The Day Of Judgment was a native of Anglesea, and entered the Welsh Church... Song To Arvon by the Rev. Evan Evans, a Clergyman of the Church of Eng... The Eisteddfod, Strike the harp: awake the lay! Let Cambria's voice be h... Concerning The Divine Providence ... Sad Died The Maiden Sad died the Maiden! and heaven only knew The anguish s... Taliesin's Prophecy A voice from time departed, yet floats thy hills among,... The World And The Sea: A Comparison Like the world and its dread changes Is the ocean when it ... The Flowers Of Spring beautiful stanzas, from which the following translation ... |
That Had Been Converted Into A May-pole In The Town Of Llanidloes, In MontgomeryshireCategory: The Sentimental. 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! How oft, in May's short nights of old, To my love-messenger and me Thou didst a couch of leaves unfold! Thou wert a house of melody,-- Proud music soared from every bough; Ah! those who loved thee sorrow now! Thy living branches teemed and rang With every song the woodlands know, And every woodland flow'ret sprang To life--thy spreading tent below. Proud guardian of the public way, Such wert thou, while thou didst obey The counsel of my beauteous bride-- And in thy native grove reside! But now thy stem is mute and dark, No more by lady's reverence cheered; Rent from its trunk, torn from its park, The luckless tree again is reared-- (Small sign of honour or of grace!) To mark the parish market-place! Long as St. Idloes' town shall be A patroness of poesy-- Long as its hospitality The bard shall freely entertain, My birch! thy lofty stature shall remain! Next: The Holly Grove Previous: The Grove Of Broom
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