Wales PoetryThe Death Of Owain
Lo! the youth, in mind a man, Daring in the battle's v...
The Song Of The Fisherman's Wife
Restless wave! be still and quiet, Do not heed the win...
The Lord Of Clas
The Lord of Clas to his hunting is gone, Over plain and...
The Farmer's Prayer
poems of the "Good Vicar Prichard of Llandovery" would be ...
May And November
Sweet May, ever welcome! the palace of leaves Thy hand for...
. One time upon a summer day I saunter'd on the shor...
Llywarch Hen's Lament On Cynddylan
Taliesin in the sixth century. He was engaged at the batt...
a Welsh Congregationalist Minister, and an eminent poet....
Translated By The Rev William Evans
God doth withhold no good from those Who meekly fear him ...
Farewell every mountain To memory dear, Each streamlet...
From The Hymns Of The Rev William Williams, Pantycelyn
he inherited from his ancestors, was born in the parish of...
Short Is The Life Of Man
Man's life, like any weaver's shuttle, flies, Or, like a t...
Sad Died The Maiden
Sad died the Maiden! and heaven only knew The anguish s...
An Address To The Summer
of Llanbadarn Fawr, Cardiganshire, and was born about ...
The Lily And The Rose
Once I saw two flowers blossom In a garden 'neath the h...
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 ...
The Hall Of Cynddylan
The Hall of Cynddylan is gloomy to-night, I weep, for th...
An Ode To The Thunder
his bardic name of Dafydd Ionawr, was born in the year 1...
Strike the harp: awake the lay! Let Cambria's voice be h...
Twenty Third Psalm
My shepherd is the Lord above, Who ne'er will suffer me to...
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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