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Wales PoetryDafydd Ap Gwilym's Address To Morfydd After She Married His RivalToo long I've loved the fickle maid, My love is turned to ... Dafydd Ap Gwilym To The White Gull Bird that dwellest in the spray, Far from mountain woods a... The Dawn Streaking the mantle of deep night The rays of light ... The Bard's Long-tried Affection For Morfydd All my lifetime I have been Bard to Morfydd, "golden m... The Lord Of Clas The Lord of Clas to his hunting is gone, Over plain and... Dafydd Ap Gwilym's Invocation To The Summer To Visit Glamorganshire, Where he spent many happy years at the hospitable mansion o... The Monarchy Of Britain Sons of the Fair Isle! forget not the time, Ere spoilers h... Llywarch Hen's Lament On Cynddylan Taliesin in the sixth century. He was engaged at the batt... The Shipwreck a Welsh Congregationalist Minister, and an eminent poet.... May And November Sweet May, ever welcome! the palace of leaves Thy hand for... The Lament Op Llywarch Hen The bright hours return, and the blue sky is ringing ... Farewell To Wales The voice of thy streams in my spirit I bear; Farewell; ... Gwilym Glyn And Ruth Of Dyffryn In the depth of yonder valley, Where the fields are bright... Roderic's Lament Farewell every mountain To memory dear, Each streamlet... Song Of The Foster-son, Love I got a foster-son, whose name was Love, From one endu... The Immovable Covenant the Welsh of Mr. H. Hughes, was a Minister in the Baptist ... An Address To The Summer of Llanbadarn Fawr, Cardiganshire, and was born about ... The Flowers Of Spring beautiful stanzas, from which the following translation ... The Battle Of Gwenystrad contemporary of Aneurin in the sixth century. He appe... My Native Cot The white cot where I spent my youth Is on yon lofty mo... |
The Death Of OwainCategory: The Patriotic. Lo! the youth, in mind a man, Daring in the battle's van; See the splendid warrior's speed On his fleet and thick-maned steed, As his buckler, beaming wide, Decks the courser's slender side, With his steel of spotless mould, Ermined vest and spurs of gold! Think not, youth, that e'er from me Hate or spleen shall flow to thee; Nobler deeds thy virtues claim, Eulogy and tuneful fame. Ah! much sooner comes thy bier Than thy nuptial feast, I fear; Ere thou mak'st the foe to bleed, Ravens on thy corse shall feed. Owain, lov'd companion, friend, To birds a prey--is this thy end! Tell me, steed, on what sad plain Thy ill-fated lord was slain. Next: Roderic's Lament Previous: An Ode On The Death Of Hoel
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