Wales Poetry

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

From The Hymns Of The Rev William Williams, Pantycelyn
he inherited from his ancestors, was born in the parish of...

My Native Land
My soul is sad, my spirit fails, And sickness in my he...

Taliesin's Prophecy
A voice from time departed, yet floats thy hills among,...

The Vengeance Of Owain {96}
Gruffydd ab Cynan, Prince of Gwynedd, or North Wales, and ...

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

Pennillion
Cymry, and was much practised in the houses of the Welsh g...

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

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

An Ode On The Death Of Hoel
of the sixth century. He was himself a soldier, and d...

The Lament Op Llywarch Hen
The bright hours return, and the blue sky is ringing ...

To The Lark
"Sentinel of the morning light! Reveller of the...

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

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

Tribanau
Serjeant Parry, the eminent barrister) says: "The followin...

The Bard's Long-tried Affection For Morfydd
All my lifetime I have been Bard to Morfydd, "golden m...

Gwilym Glyn And Ruth Of Dyffryn
In the depth of yonder valley, Where the fields are bright...

The Dawn
Streaking the mantle of deep night The rays of light ...

Short Is The Life Of Man
Man's life, like any weaver's shuttle, flies, Or, like a t...

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,
Previous: Farewell To Wales

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