InformationalPrivacy
| This is the debt I pay Just for one riotous day, Years of regret and grief. Sorrow without relief. Pay it I will to the end-- Until the grave, my friend, Gives me a true release-- Gives me the clasp of peace. Slight was the thing I bou... Read more of The Debt at Martin Luther King.ca | Informational Privacy |
| Home - Collection of Stories - Famous Stories - Short Stories - Wales Poetry - Yiddish Tales |
Wales PoetryThe Monarchy Of BritainSons of the Fair Isle! forget not the time, Ere spoilers h... Tribanau Serjeant Parry, the eminent barrister) says: "The followin... The Withered Leaf Dry the leaf above the stubble, Soon 'twill fall into ... The Fairy's Song "Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy!"--SHAKSPEARE. ... The Legend Of Trwst Llywelyn Once upon a time, Llywelyn was returning from a great battl... The Day Of Judgment was a native of Anglesea, and entered the Welsh Church... Gwilym Glyn And Ruth Of Dyffryn In the depth of yonder valley, Where the fields are bright... The Vengeance Of Owain {96} Gruffydd ab Cynan, Prince of Gwynedd, or North Wales, and ... Short Is The Life Of Man Man's life, like any weaver's shuttle, flies, Or, like a t... Farewell To Wales The voice of thy streams in my spirit I bear; Farewell; ... To The Daisy Oh, flower meek and modest That blooms of all the soonest,... Old Morgan And His Wife Hus.--Jane, tell me have you fed the pigs, Their cry is ... The World And The Sea: A Comparison Like the world and its dread changes Is the ocean when it ... The Song Of The Fisherman's Wife Restless wave! be still and quiet, Do not heed the win... Twenty Third Psalm My shepherd is the Lord above, Who ne'er will suffer me to... Glan Geirionydd . One time upon a summer day I saunter'd on the shor... The Hall Of Cynddylan The Hall of Cynddylan is gloomy to-night, I weep, for th... Pennillion Cymry, and was much practised in the houses of the Welsh g... To May the following and several other poems in this collection. ... The Banks Of The Dee One morning in May, when soft breezes were blowing O'er... |
The Rose Of The GlenCategory: 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
Viewed 460 |
||||||||||||||||||||
