InformationalPrivacy
| These truly are the Brave, These men who cast aside Old memories, to walk the blood-stained pave Of Sacrifice, joining the solemn tide That moves away, to suffer and to die For Freedom--when their own is yet denied! O Pride! O Prejudice! Whe... Read more of The Negro Soldiers at Martin Luther King.ca | Informational Privacy |
| Home - Collection of Stories - Famous Stories - Short Stories - Wales Poetry - Yiddish Tales |
Wales PoetryThe Fairy's Song"Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy!"--SHAKSPEARE. ... The Holly Grove Sweet holly grove, that soarest A woodland fort, an armed ... Song Of The Foster-son, Love I got a foster-son, whose name was Love, From one endu... To May the following and several other poems in this collection. ... Roderic's Lament Farewell every mountain To memory dear, Each streamlet... Llywarch Hen's Lament On Cynddylan Taliesin in the sixth century. He was engaged at the batt... The Hall Of Cynddylan The Hall of Cynddylan is gloomy to-night, I weep, for th... The Faithful Maiden At the dawning of day on a morning in May, When the bi... Dafydd Ap Gwilym To The White Gull Bird that dwellest in the spray, Far from mountain woods a... Translations From Miscellaneous Welsh Hymns Had I but the wings of a dove, To regions afar I'd repa... The Lord Of Clas The Lord of Clas to his hunting is gone, Over plain and... The Banks Of The Dee One morning in May, when soft breezes were blowing O'er... The Song Of The Fisherman's Wife Restless wave! be still and quiet, Do not heed the win... Snowdon King of the mighty hills! thy crown of snow Thou reares... The Lily And The Rose Once I saw two flowers blossom In a garden 'neath the h... The Farmer's Prayer poems of the "Good Vicar Prichard of Llandovery" would be ... To The Spring Oh, come gentle spring, and visit the plain, Far scatte... An Ode On The Death Of Hoel of the sixth century. He was himself a soldier, and d... Concerning The Divine Providence ... The Withered Leaf Dry the leaf above the stubble, Soon 'twill fall into ... |
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
Viewed 437 |
||||||||||||||||||||
