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Wales Poetry

My Father-land
Land of the Cymry! thou art still, In rock and valley, str...

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

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 ...

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

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...

My Native Land
My soul is sad, my spirit fails, And sickness in my he...

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

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

The Song Of The Fisherman's Wife
Restless wave! be still and quiet, Do not heed the win...

Under The Orchard Tree
Under the deep-laden boughs of the orchard Walks a maid...

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

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

The Lament Op Llywarch Hen
The bright hours return, and the blue sky is ringing ...

The Mountain Galloway
My tried and trusty mountain steed, Of Aberteivi's hardy...

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,...

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

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

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

The Praise And Commendation Of A Good Woman
As a wise child excells the sceptr'd fool Who of conceit a...



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!





Next: May And November

Previous: The Holly Grove



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