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Wales Poetry

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

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

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

An Address To The Summer
of Llanbadarn Fawr, Cardiganshire, and was born about ...

The Ewe
So artless art thou, gentle ewe! Thy aspect kindles...

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

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

Taliesin's Prophecy
A voice from time departed, yet floats thy hills among,...

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 ...

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

Sad Died The Maiden
Sad died the Maiden! and heaven only knew The anguish s...

Translations From Miscellaneous Welsh Hymns
Had I but the wings of a dove, To regions afar I'd repa...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Fairy's Song
"Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy!"--SHAKSPEARE. ...



The Swan






Category: The Sentimental.

Thou swan, upon the waters bright,
In lime-hued vest, like abbot white!
Bird of the spray, to whom is giv'n
The raiment of the men of heav'n;
Bird of broad hand, in youth's proud age,
Syvaddon was thy heritage!
Two gifts in thee, fair bird, unite
To glean the fish in yonder lake,
And bending o'er yon hills thy flight
A glance at earth and sea to take.
Oh! 'tis a noble task to ride
The billows countless as the snow;
Thy long fair neck (thou thing of pride!)
Thy hook to catch the fish below;
Thou guardian of the fountain head,
By which Syvaddon's waves are fed!
Above the dingle's rugged streams,
Intensely white thy raiment gleams;
Thy shirt like crystal tissue seems;
Thy doublet, and thy waistcoat bright,
Like thousand lilies meet the sight;
Thy jacket is of the white rose,
Thy gown the woodbine's flow'rs compose, {142}
Thou glory of the birds of air,
Thou bird of heav'n, oh, hear my pray'r!
And visit in her dwelling place
The lady of illustrious race:
Haste on an embassy to her,
My kind white-bosomed messenger--
Upon the waves thy course begin,
And then at Cemaes take to shore;
And there through all the land explore,
For the bright maid of Talyllyn,
The lady fair as the moon's flame,
And call her "Paragon" by name;
The chamber of the beauty seek,
And mount with footsteps slow and meek;
Salute her, and to her reveal
The cares and agonies I feel--
And in return bring to my ear
Message of hope, my heart to cheer!
Oh, may no danger hover near
(Bird of majestic head) thy flight!
Thy service I will well requite!





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