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Wales Poetry

The World And The Sea: A Comparison
Like the world and its dread changes Is the ocean when it ...

May And November
Sweet May, ever welcome! the palace of leaves Thy hand for...

The Lily And The Rose
Once I saw two flowers blossom In a garden 'neath the h...

That Had Been Converted Into A May-pole In The Town Of Llanidloes, In Montgomeryshire
Ah! birch tree, with the verdant locks, And reckless min...

The Banks Of The Dee
One morning in May, when soft breezes were blowing O'er...

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

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

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

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

The Farmer's Prayer
poems of the "Good Vicar Prichard of Llandovery" would be ...

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

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

Walter Sele
O'er Walter's bed no foot shall tread, Nor step unhallo...

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

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

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

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...

A Bridal Song
Wilt thou not waken, bride of May, While the flowers are...

Dafydd Ap Gwilym To The White Gull
Bird that dwellest in the spray, Far from mountain woods a...



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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