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Wales Poetry

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

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

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

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

Tribanau
Serjeant Parry, the eminent barrister) says: "The followin...

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

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

The Golden Goblet, In Imitation Of Gothe
There was a king in Mon, {62} A true lover to his grave; ...

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 ...

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

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

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

The Monarchy Of Britain
Sons of the Fair Isle! forget not the time, Ere spoilers h...

To The Lark
"Sentinel of the morning light! Reveller of the...

My Native Cot
The white cot where I spent my youth Is on yon lofty mo...

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

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

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

To May
the following and several other poems in this collection. ...

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



The Rose Of The Glen






Category: The Sentimental.

Although I've no money or treasure to give,
No palace or cottage wherein I may live,
Altho' I can't boast of high blood or degree,
Than all these my sweet Rose is dearer to me.

The lambs on the mountain are frisky and gay,
The birds in the forest are restless with play,
The maidens rejoice at the advent of spring,
Yet my fair Rose to me more enjoyment can bring.





Next: The Mountain Galloway

Previous: The Lord Of Clas



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