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Wales Poetry

The Grove Of Broom
The girl of nobler loveliness Than countess decked in go...

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

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

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

The Holly Grove
Sweet holly grove, that soarest A woodland fort, an armed ...

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

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

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

Walter Sele
O'er Walter's bed no foot shall tread, Nor step unhallo...

The World And The Sea: A Comparison
Like the world and its dread changes Is the ocean when it ...

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

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

Song To Arvon
by the Rev. Evan Evans, a Clergyman of the Church of Eng...

Concerning The Divine Providence

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

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

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

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

Song Of The Foster-son, Love
I got a foster-son, whose name was Love, From one endu...

The Shipwreck
a Welsh Congregationalist Minister, and an eminent poet....

The Vengeance Of Owain {96}

Category: The Patriotic.

Gruffydd ab Cynan, Prince of Gwynedd, or North Wales, and he succeeded
his father on his death in 1137. Father and son were illustrious
warriors and patriotic rulers. They were also celebrated for their
munificent protection of the Welsh Bards. The Saxons had established
themselves at the castle of Wyddgrug, now Mold, and thence committed
great ravages on the Welsh in that vicinity. Owain collected his forces,
and by a sudden and fierce attack he conquered the Saxons in their
stronghold, and afterwards razed it with the ground in 1144. This
celebrated Prince died in 1162, and was buried at Bangor, where a
monument to his memory still remains.]

"It may be bowed
With woes far heavier than the ponderous tomb
That weighed upon her gentle dust, a cloud
Might gather o'er her beauty, and a gloom
In her dark eye, prophetic of the doom,
Heaven gives its favourites--early death."

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