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Wales Poetry

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

Twenty Third Psalm
My shepherd is the Lord above, Who ne'er will suffer me to...

Gwilym Glyn And Ruth Of Dyffryn
In the depth of yonder valley, Where the fields are bright...

Song Of The Foster-son, Love
I got a foster-son, whose name was Love, From one endu...

The Death Of Owain
Lo! the youth, in mind a man, Daring in the battle's v...

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

An Ode On The Death Of Hoel
of the sixth century. He was himself a soldier, and d...

The Swan
Thou swan, upon the waters bright, In lime-hued vest, like...

The Mother To Her Child After Its Father's Death
My gentle child, thou dost not know Why still on thee ...

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

Glan Geirionydd
. One time upon a summer day I saunter'd on the shor...

Woman
Gentle Woman! thou most perfect Work of the Divine Arc...

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

From The Hymns Of The Rev William Williams, Pantycelyn
he inherited from his ancestors, was born in the parish of...

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

The Mountain Galloway
My tried and trusty mountain steed, Of Aberteivi's hardy...

My Native Land
My soul is sad, my spirit fails, And sickness in my he...

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

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

The Song Of The Fisherman's Wife
Restless wave! be still and quiet, Do not heed the win...



The Mountain Galloway






Category: 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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