Mrs. Ogilvie of Drumquaigh had a poodle named Fanti. Her family, or at least those who lived with her, were her son, the laird, and three daughters. Of these the two younger, at a certain recent date, were paying a short visit to a neighbouri... Read more of The Dog Fanti at Scary Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational.ca
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Wales Poetry

Concerning The Divine Providence
...

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

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

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

The Poor Man's Grave
'Neath the yew tree's gloomy branches, Rears a mound ...

Ode To Cambria
Cambria, I love thy genius bold; Thy dreadful rites, and...

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

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

Short Is The Life Of Man
Man's life, like any weaver's shuttle, flies, Or, like a t...

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

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

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

To The Daisy
Oh, flower meek and modest That blooms of all the soonest,...

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

The Hall Of Cynddylan
The Hall of Cynddylan is gloomy to-night, I weep, for th...

Old Morgan And His Wife
Hus.--Jane, tell me have you fed the pigs, Their cry is ...

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

Snowdon
King of the mighty hills! thy crown of snow Thou reares...

Farewell To Wales
The voice of thy streams in my spirit I bear; Farewell; ...

Sad Died The Maiden
Sad died the Maiden! and heaven only knew The anguish s...



The Mother To Her Child After Its Father's Death






Category: The Sentimental.

My gentle child, thou dost not know
Why still on thee I am gazing so,
And trace in meditation deep
Thy features fair in silent sleep.

Thy mien, my babe, so full of grace,
Reminds me of thy father's face;
Although he rests beneath the tree,
His features all survive in thee.

Thou knowest not, my gentle child,
The deep remorse that makes me wild,
Nor why sometimes I can't bestow
A smile for smile when thine doth glow.

Thy father, babe, lies in the clay,
Lock'd in the tomb, his prison gray;
And yet methinks he still doth live,
When on thy face a glance I give.

And dost thou smile, my baby fair,
Before my face so pale with care?
What for the world and its deceit,
With myriad snares for youthful feet?

These are before thee, while the aid
Of father's counsel is deep laid;
And soon thy mother wan may find
A last home there--and thou behind.

Thy sad condition then will be
Like some lone flower upon the lea,
Without a cover from the wind,
Or winter's hail and snow unkind.

But smile thou on--in heaven above
Thy father lives, and He is love;
He knows thy lot, and well doth care
For all, and for thee will prepare.

If through His help, Jehovah good!
Thou smilest now in blissful mood;
May I not think, safe in His hand
Thou mayest travel through this land?

Smile on, my child, for thou wilt find
In Him a friend and father kind;
He'll guide the orphan on his way,
Nor ever will his trust betray.

At last in the eternal land
We all shall meet a joyous band,
Without ought danger more to part,
Or tear or sigh to heave the heart.





Next: Woman
Previous: Glan Geirionydd


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