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| Towards the end of an autumn afternoon an elderly man with a thin face and grey Piccadilly weepers pushed open the swing-door leading into the vestibule of a certain famous library, and addressing himself to an attendant, stated that he believe... Read more of The Tractate Middoth at Scary Stories.ca | Informational Privacy |
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Wales PoetryTo The DaisyOh, flower meek and modest That blooms of all the soonest,... Roderic's Lament Farewell every mountain To memory dear, Each streamlet... To May the following and several other poems in this collection. ... Sad Died The Maiden Sad died the Maiden! and heaven only knew The anguish s... My Native Cot The white cot where I spent my youth Is on yon lofty mo... To The Nightingale river of that name was born at Mold, in Flintshire, in the... The Vengeance Of Owain {96} Gruffydd ab Cynan, Prince of Gwynedd, or North Wales, and ... An Ode To The Thunder his bardic name of Dafydd Ionawr, was born in the year 1... Translations From Miscellaneous Welsh Hymns Had I but the wings of a dove, To regions afar I'd repa... The Shipwreck a Welsh Congregationalist Minister, and an eminent poet.... The Death Of Owain Lo! the youth, in mind a man, Daring in the battle's v... The Golden Goblet, In Imitation Of Gothe There was a king in Mon, {62} A true lover to his grave; ... The Sick Man's Dream Dans le solitaire bourgade, Revant a ses maux triste... Short Is The Life Of Man Man's life, like any weaver's shuttle, flies, Or, like a t... Farewell To Wales The voice of thy streams in my spirit I bear; Farewell; ... Snowdon King of the mighty hills! thy crown of snow Thou reares... The Immovable Covenant the Welsh of Mr. H. Hughes, was a Minister in the Baptist ... The Fairy's Song "Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy!"--SHAKSPEARE. ... The Castles Of Wales Ye fortresses grey and gigantic I see on the hills of... Under The Orchard Tree Under the deep-laden boughs of the orchard Walks a maid... |
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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