Wales PoetryThe Poor Man's Grave
'Neath the yew tree's gloomy branches, Rears a mound ...
A Bridal Song
Wilt thou not waken, bride of May, While the flowers are...
a Welsh Congregationalist Minister, and an eminent poet....
"Oh Gwynedd, fast thy star declineth, Thy name is gone, t...
My Native Cot
The white cot where I spent my youth Is on yon lofty mo...
The Circling Of The Mead Horns
Fill the blue horn, the blue buffalo horn: Natural is mead...
Translations From Miscellaneous Welsh Hymns
Had I but the wings of a dove, To regions afar I'd repa...
O'er Walter's bed no foot shall tread, Nor step unhallo...
The Praise And Commendation Of A Good Woman
As a wise child excells the sceptr'd fool Who of conceit a...
The Castles Of Wales
Ye fortresses grey and gigantic I see on the hills of...
The Withered Leaf
Dry the leaf above the stubble, Soon 'twill fall into ...
The Grove Of Broom
The girl of nobler loveliness Than countess decked in go...
* * * * * Whether to the east or west You go, wondr...
The Death Of Owain
Lo! the youth, in mind a man, Daring in the battle's v...
Llywarch Hen's Lament On Cynddylan
Taliesin in the sixth century. He was engaged at the batt...
An Ode On The Death Of Hoel
of the sixth century. He was himself a soldier, and d...
The Banks Of The Dee
One morning in May, when soft breezes were blowing O'er...
The Lament Op Llywarch Hen
The bright hours return, and the blue sky is ringing ...
The Farmer's Prayer
poems of the "Good Vicar Prichard of Llandovery" would be ...
An Ode To The Thunder
his bardic name of Dafydd Ionawr, was born in the year 1...
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.
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