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Wales Poetry

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

The Lord Of Clas
The Lord of Clas to his hunting is gone, Over plain and...

Concerning The Divine Providence
...

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

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

An Address To The Summer
of Llanbadarn Fawr, Cardiganshire, and was born about ...

The Withered Leaf
Dry the leaf above the stubble, Soon 'twill fall into ...

My Father-land
Land of the Cymry! thou art still, In rock and valley, str...

The Battle Of Gwenystrad
contemporary of Aneurin in the sixth century. He appe...

To The Nightingale
river of that name was born at Mold, in Flintshire, in the...

The Rose Of The Glen
Although I've no money or treasure to give, No palace or c...

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

The Poor Man's Grave
'Neath the yew tree's gloomy branches, Rears a mound ...

To The Spring
Oh, come gentle spring, and visit the plain, Far scatte...

Under The Orchard Tree
Under the deep-laden boughs of the orchard Walks a maid...

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

The Castles Of Wales
Ye fortresses grey and gigantic I see on the hills of...

Ode To Cambria
Cambria, I love thy genius bold; Thy dreadful rites, and...

The Circling Of The Mead Horns
Fill the blue horn, the blue buffalo horn: Natural is mead...

The Sick Man's Dream
Dans le solitaire bourgade, Revant a ses maux triste...



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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