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Wales Poetry

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To The Spring
Oh, come gentle spring, and visit the plain, Far scatte...

From The Hymns Of The Rev William Williams, Pantycelyn
he inherited from his ancestors, was born in the parish of...

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Immovable Covenant
the Welsh of Mr. H. Hughes, was a Minister in the Baptist ...

The Rose Of Llan Meilen
Sweet Rose of Llan Meilen! you bid me forget That ever i...

The Swan
Thou swan, upon the waters bright, In lime-hued vest, like...

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

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



The Withered Leaf






Category: The Sentimental.

Dry the leaf above the stubble,
Soon 'twill fall into the bramble,
But the mind receives a lesson
From the leaf when it has fallen.

Once it flourished in deep verdure,
Bright its aspect in the arbour,
Beside myriad of companions,
Once it danc'd in gay rotations.

Now its bloom is gone for ever,
'Neath the morning dew doth totter,
Sun or moon, or breezes balmy
Can't restore its verdant beauty.

* * * * *

Short its glory! soon it faded,
One day's joy, and then it ended;
Heaven declared its task was over,
It then fell, and that for ever.





Next: Sad Died The Maiden

Previous: The Song Of The Fisherman's Wife



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