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Wales Poetry

The Eisteddfod,
Strike the harp: awake the lay! Let Cambria's voice be 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 ...

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

Twenty Third Psalm
My shepherd is the Lord above, Who ne'er will suffer me to...

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

The Death Of Owain
Lo! the youth, in mind a man, Daring in the battle's v...

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

My Native Cot
The white cot where I spent my youth Is on yon lofty mo...

The Day Of Judgment
was a native of Anglesea, and entered the Welsh Church...

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

The Fairy's Song
"Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy!"--SHAKSPEARE. ...

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

The Golden Goblet, In Imitation Of Gothe
There was a king in Mon, {62} A true lover to his grave; ...

A Bridal Song
Wilt thou not waken, bride of May, While the flowers are...

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

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

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

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

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

The Grove Of Broom
The girl of nobler loveliness Than countess decked in go...



The Eisteddfod,






Category: The Patriotic.

Strike the harp: awake the lay!
Let Cambria's voice be heard this day
In music's witching strain!
Wide let her ancient "soul of song,"
The echo of its notes prolong,
O'er valley, hill, and plain!
Minstrels! awake your harps aloud,
Bid Cambria's nobles hither crowd,
Her daughters fair, her chieftains proud,
Nor shall the call be vain!

Let gen'rous wine around be pour'd!
To many a chief in mem'ry stored,
Of Cambria's ancient day!
Sons of the mountain and the flood,
Who shed for her their dearest blood,
Nor own'd a conqueror's sway!
Be they extolled in music's strain,
Remembered, when the cup we drain,
And let their deeds revive again
In ev'ry minstrel's lay!

'Tis now the feast of soul and song!
As roll the festive hours along,
Here wealth and pow'r combine
With beauty's smiles, (a rich reward,)
To cheer the rugged mountain bard,
And honour Cambria's line!
Then, minstrels! wake your harps aloud,
Behold her nobles hither crowd,
Her daughters fair, her chieftains proud,
Like gems around they shine!





Next: Llywarch Hen's Lament On Cynddylan
Previous: The Castles Of Wales


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