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Wales Poetry

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

The Rose Of Llan Meilen
Sweet Rose of Llan Meilen! you bid me forget That ever i...

Pennillion
Cymry, and was much practised in the houses of the Welsh g...

The Praise And Commendation Of A Good Woman
As a wise child excells the sceptr'd fool Who of conceit a...

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

Roderic's Lament
Farewell every mountain To memory dear, Each streamlet...

Dafydd Ap Gwilym's Invocation To The Summer To Visit Glamorganshire,
Where he spent many happy years at the hospitable mansion o...

The Bard's Long-tried Affection For Morfydd
All my lifetime I have been Bard to Morfydd, "golden m...

The Faithful Maiden
At the dawning of day on a morning in May, When the bi...

To May
the following and several other poems in this collection. ...

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

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

Song To Arvon
by the Rev. Evan Evans, a Clergyman of the Church of Eng...

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

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

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

To The Lark
"Sentinel of the morning light! Reveller of the...

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



The Monarchy Of Britain






Category: The Patriotic.

Sons of the Fair Isle! forget not the time,
Ere spoilers had breath'd the free air of your clime!
All that its eagles beheld in their flight
Was yours from the deep to each storm-mantled height!
Though from your race that proud birthright be torn,
Unquench'd is the spirit for monarchy born.
Darkly though clouds may hang o'er us awhile,
The crown shall not pass from the Beautiful Isle! {88}
Ages may roll ere your children regain
The land for which heroes have perish'd in vain.
Yet in the sound of your names shall be pow'r,
Around her still gath'ring, till glory's full hour.
Strong in the fame of the mighty that sleep,
Your Britain shall sit on the throne of the deep.
Then shall their spirits rejoice in her smile,
Who died for the crown of the Beautiful Isle!





Next: Farewell To Wales

Previous: Taliesin's Prophecy



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