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Wales Poetry

The Immovable Covenant
the Welsh of Mr. H. Hughes, was a Minister in the Baptist ...

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

Childe Harold
"Oh Gwynedd, fast thy star declineth, Thy name is gone, t...

The Dawn
Streaking the mantle of deep night The rays of light ...

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

The Circling Of The Mead Horns
Fill the blue horn, the blue buffalo horn: Natural is mead...

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

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

Llywarch Hen's Lament On Cynddylan
Taliesin in the sixth century. He was engaged at the batt...

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

The Rose Of The Glen
Although I've no money or treasure to give, No palace or c...

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

Dafydd Ap Gwilym's Address To Morfydd After She Married His Rival
Too long I've loved the fickle maid, My love is turned to ...

Translated By The Rev William Evans
God doth withhold no good from those Who meekly fear him ...

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

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

The Withered Leaf
Dry the leaf above the stubble, Soon 'twill fall into ...

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

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

The Cuckoo's Tale
Hail, bird of sweet melody, heav'n is thy home; With the...



The Praise And Commendation Of A Good Woman






Category: The Religious.

As a wise child excells the sceptr'd fool
Who of conceit and selfishness is full--
As a good name exceeds the best perfume,
And richest balms that from the Indies come.

A virtuous, cheerful, and obliging wife
Is better far than all the pomp of life,
Better than houses, tenements and lands,
Than pearls and precious stones, and golden sands.

She is a ship with costly wares well-stow'd,
A pearl, with virtues infinite endow'd,
A gem, beyond all value and compare:
Happy the man, who has her to his share!

She is a pillar with rich gildings grac'd,
And on a pedestal of silver plac'd,
She is a turret of defence, to save
A weak and sickly husband from the grave,
She is a gorgeous crown, a glorious prize,
And ev'ry grace, in her, concent'red lies!





Next: Twenty Third Psalm
Previous: The Farmer's Prayer


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