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Wales PoetryThe Immovable Covenantthe Welsh of Mr. H. Hughes, was a Minister in the Baptist ... May And November Sweet May, ever welcome! the palace of leaves Thy hand for... The Poor Man's Grave 'Neath the yew tree's gloomy branches, Rears a mound ... An Ode To The Thunder his bardic name of Dafydd Ionawr, was born in the year 1... The Battle Of Gwenystrad contemporary of Aneurin in the sixth century. He appe... The Banks Of The Dee One morning in May, when soft breezes were blowing O'er... Gwilym Glyn And Ruth Of Dyffryn In the depth of yonder valley, Where the fields are bright... The Song Of The Fisherman's Wife Restless wave! be still and quiet, Do not heed the win... Pennillion Cymry, and was much practised in the houses of the Welsh g... The Dawn Streaking the mantle of deep night The rays of light ... The Castles Of Wales Ye fortresses grey and gigantic I see on the hills of... The Deluge * * * * * Whether to the east or west You go, wondr... The Lord Of Clas The Lord of Clas to his hunting is gone, Over plain and... The Praise And Commendation Of A Good Woman As a wise child excells the sceptr'd fool Who of conceit a... Farewell To Wales The voice of thy streams in my spirit I bear; Farewell; ... Twenty Third Psalm My shepherd is the Lord above, Who ne'er will suffer me to... Taliesin's Prophecy A voice from time departed, yet floats thy hills among,... The Farmer's Prayer poems of the "Good Vicar Prichard of Llandovery" would be ... The Mountain Galloway My tried and trusty mountain steed, Of Aberteivi's hardy... Translated By The Rev William Evans God doth withhold no good from those Who meekly fear him ... |
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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