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Wales Poetry

The Shipwreck
a Welsh Congregationalist Minister, and an eminent poet....

Childe Harold
"Oh Gwynedd, fast thy star declineth, Thy name is gone, t...

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

The Swan
Thou swan, upon the waters bright, In lime-hued vest, like...

By The Rev Rees Prichard, Ma
...

The Flowers Of Spring
beautiful stanzas, from which the following translation ...

The Hall Of Cynddylan
The Hall of Cynddylan is gloomy to-night, I weep, for th...

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

An Ode To The Thunder
his bardic name of Dafydd Ionawr, was born in the year 1...

The World And The Sea: A Comparison
Like the world and its dread changes Is the ocean when it ...

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

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

The Mountain Galloway
My tried and trusty mountain steed, Of Aberteivi's hardy...

Translated By The Rev William Evans
God doth withhold no good from those Who meekly fear him ...

The Day Of Judgment
was a native of Anglesea, and entered the Welsh Church...

The Song Of The Fisherman's Wife
Restless wave! be still and quiet, Do not heed the win...

Song Of The Foster-son, Love
I got a foster-son, whose name was Love, From one endu...

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

To May
the following and several other poems in this collection. ...

Old Morgan And His Wife
Hus.--Jane, tell me have you fed the pigs, Their cry is ...



The Banks Of The Dee






Category: The Sentimental.

One morning in May, when soft breezes were blowing
O'er Dee's pleasant tide with a ripple and swell,
A shepherdess tended her flock that was feeding
Upon the green meadows that lay in the dell,
Her blue eye she raised, and she looked all around her,
As if she'd fain see some one far on the lea,
And spite of its brightness, I saw the salt tear
For one who was far from the banks of the Dee.

The maiden I thought was preparing to solace
Her stay with a song amid the fair scene,
Nor long was I left in suspense of her object,
Before she broke forth with a melody clean;
The tears she would wipe away with her napkin,
While often a sigh would escape from her breast,
And as she sent forth the notes of her mourning,
I could find that to love the lay was address'd:

"Four summers have pass'd since I lost my sweet William,
And from this fair valley he mournful did go;
Four autumns have shower'd their leaves on the meadows
Since he on these eyelids a smile did bestow;
Four winters have sped with their snowflakes and tempest
Since he by my side did sing a light glee;
But many more springs will be sown for the harvest
Ere William revisit the banks of the Dee."





Next: Gwilym Glyn And Ruth Of Dyffryn
Previous: Under The Orchard Tree


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