Wales Poetry

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To May
the following and several other poems in this collection. ...

The Lord Of Clas
The Lord of Clas to his hunting is gone, Over plain and...

The Death Of Owain
Lo! the youth, in mind a man, Daring in the battle's v...

The Vengeance Of Owain {96}
Gruffydd ab Cynan, Prince of Gwynedd, or North Wales, and ...

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

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

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

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

The Castles Of Wales
Ye fortresses grey and gigantic I see on the hills of...

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

The Day Of Judgment
was a native of Anglesea, and entered the Welsh Church...

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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