|Lady X., after walking in a wood near her house in Ireland, found that she had lost an important key. She dreamed that it was lying at the root of a certain tree, where she found it next day, and her theory is the same as that of Mr. A., the o... Read more of The Lost Key at Scary Stories.ca|| Informational|
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Wales PoetryThe Grove Of Broom
The girl of nobler loveliness Than countess decked in go...
The Castles Of Wales
Ye fortresses grey and gigantic I see on the hills of...
* * * * * Whether to the east or west You go, wondr...
An Ode To The Thunder
his bardic name of Dafydd Ionawr, was born in the year 1...
The Song Of The Fisherman's Wife
Restless wave! be still and quiet, Do not heed the win...
The Immovable Covenant
the Welsh of Mr. H. Hughes, was a Minister in the Baptist ...
The Death Of Owain
Lo! the youth, in mind a man, Daring in the battle's v...
The Day Of Judgment
was a native of Anglesea, and entered the Welsh Church...
Dafydd Ap Gwilym To The White Gull
Bird that dwellest in the spray, Far from mountain woods a...
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 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...
Land of the Cymry! thou art still, In rock and valley, str...
Dafydd Ap Gwilym's Address To Morfydd After She Married His Rival
Too long I've loved the fickle maid, My love is turned to ...
. One time upon a summer day I saunter'd on the shor...
The Holly Grove
Sweet holly grove, that soarest A woodland fort, an armed ...
The Poor Man's Grave
'Neath the yew tree's gloomy branches, Rears a mound ...
Gwilym Glyn And Ruth Of Dyffryn
In the depth of yonder valley, Where the fields are bright...
Cymry, and was much practised in the houses of the Welsh g...
The Castles Of Wales
Category: The Patriotic.
Ye fortresses grey and gigantic
I see on the hills of my land,
To my mind ye appear terrific,
When I muse on your ruins so grand;
Your walls were a shelter the strongest
From the enemies' countless array,
When they spilt with the blood of the bravest,
Your sides in our ancestors' day.
Around you the war-horse was neighing,
And pranced his rich trappings to feel,
While through you were frightfully gleaming
Bright lances and spears of steel;
The fruits of the rich-laden harvest,
Were ruthlessly trod by the foe,
And the thunder of battle was loudest,
To herald its message of woe.
While viewing your dilapidation,
My memory kindles with joy,
To think that the foes of our nation,
No longer these valleys destroy;
By sowing his fields in the winter,
In hope of a rich harvest-home,
The husbandman now feels no terror
Of war with its havoc to come.
When I look at the sheep as they shelter
In safety beneath your rude walls,
Where erst the dread agents of slaughter
Fell'd thousands, nor heeded their calls;
The hillock where crossed the sharp spears
Now shadows the ewe and its lamb,
While seeing the peace of these years,
My heart is with gratitude warm.
Ye towers that saw the wild ravens,
And the eagles with hunger impell'd,
Exultingly gorge 'mid your ruins.
On corpses of men which they held;
How sweet for you now 'tis to hear
The shepherd, so peaceful and meek,
Tune his reed with a melody clear,
While his flock in you shelter do seek.
Upon your battlements sitting,
To view the bright landscape below,
My heart becomes sad when remembering
That silent in death is the foe,
And the friends who bravely did combat,
And raised your grey towers so steep,
Declaring their life-blood should stagnate,
Ere ever in chains they would weep.
When I think of their purpose so pure,
The tear must fast trickle from me,
Their hearts did Providence allure
To their country, and her did they free;
We now live beneath a meek power,
And feel the full blessings of peace,
While on us abundantly shower,
The mercies of Heaven with increase.
Next: The Eisteddfod,
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