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| TO INCREASE YOUR MAGIC POWERS JUST CHANT (WITH FEELING): I TAKE THE POWER IN MY HANDS FROM AIR AND FIRE WATER AND LAND POWER OF THE ANGELS AND DIVINITY MOVES AND PULSATES THE ENERGY IN ME I BUILD I BIRTH I BRING FORM I RAISE WITH MIGHT AN ENERGY STOR... Read more of Power Chant at White Magic.ca | Informational.ca Privacy |
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Wales PoetryThe Shipwrecka Welsh Congregationalist Minister, and an eminent poet.... The Lily And The Rose Once I saw two flowers blossom In a garden 'neath the h... To The Spring Oh, come gentle spring, and visit the plain, Far scatte... The Mother To Her Child After Its Father's Death My gentle child, thou dost not know Why still on thee ... To The Daisy Oh, flower meek and modest That blooms of all the soonest,... Tribanau Serjeant Parry, the eminent barrister) says: "The followin... Short Is The Life Of Man Man's life, like any weaver's shuttle, flies, Or, like a t... The World And The Sea: A Comparison Like the world and its dread changes Is the ocean when it ... The Golden Goblet, In Imitation Of Gothe There was a king in Mon, {62} A true lover to his grave; ... The Grove Of Broom The girl of nobler loveliness Than countess decked in go... Under The Orchard Tree Under the deep-laden boughs of the orchard Walks a maid... The Day Of Judgment was a native of Anglesea, and entered the Welsh Church... My Native Land My soul is sad, my spirit fails, And sickness in my he... The Battle Of Gwenystrad contemporary of Aneurin in the sixth century. He appe... Concerning The Divine Providence ... Sad Died The Maiden Sad died the Maiden! and heaven only knew The anguish s... A Bridal Song Wilt thou not waken, bride of May, While the flowers are... The Immovable Covenant the Welsh of Mr. H. Hughes, was a Minister in the Baptist ... The Song Of The Fisherman's Wife Restless wave! be still and quiet, Do not heed the win... The Eisteddfod, Strike the harp: awake the lay! Let Cambria's voice be h... |
The Mountain GallowayCategory: The Sentimental. My tried and trusty mountain steed, Of Aberteivi's hardy breed, Elate of spirit, low of flesh, That sham'st thy kind of vallies fresh; And three score miles and twelve a day Hast sped, my gallant galloway. Like a sea-boat, firm and tight, Dancing on the ocean, light, That the spirit of the wind Actuates to heart and mind Elastic, buoyant, proud, and gay, Art thou, my mountain galloway. Thou'st borne me, like a billow's sweep, O'er mountains high and vallies deep, Oft drank at lake and waterfall, Pass'd sunless gulfs whose glooms appall, And shudder'd oft at ocean's spray, Where breakers roar'd, destruction lay. And thou hast snuff'd sulphureous fumes 'Mid rural nature's charnel tombs; Thou hast sped with eye unscar'd Where Merthyr's fields of fire flar'd; And thou wert dauntless on thy way, My faithful mountain galloway. There is a vale, 'tis far away, But we must reach that vale to-day; There is a mansion in that vale, Its white walls well the eye regale! And there's a hand more white they say, Shall pat my gallant galloway. And she is young, and she is fair, The lovely one who sojourns there; Oh, truly dear is she to me! As thou art mine, she'll welcome thee: Then off we go, at break of day, On, on! my gallant galloway. Next: Glan Geirionydd Previous: The Rose Of The Glen
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