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Wales PoetryThe Grove Of Broom
The girl of nobler loveliness Than countess decked in go...
Farewell every mountain To memory dear, Each streamlet...
The Rose Of The Glen
Although I've no money or treasure to give, No palace or c...
The Mother To Her Child After Its Father's Death
My gentle child, thou dost not know Why still on thee ...
The Fairy's Song
"Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy!"--SHAKSPEARE. ...
Streaking the mantle of deep night The rays of light ...
Gentle Woman! thou most perfect Work of the Divine Arc...
Farewell To Wales
The voice of thy streams in my spirit I bear; Farewell; ...
Thou swan, upon the waters bright, In lime-hued vest, like...
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...
To The Lark
"Sentinel of the morning light! Reveller of the...
The Lament Op Llywarch Hen
The bright hours return, and the blue sky is ringing ...
The Praise And Commendation Of A Good Woman
As a wise child excells the sceptr'd fool Who of conceit a...
The Poor Man's Grave
'Neath the yew tree's gloomy branches, Rears a mound ...
The Hall Of Cynddylan
The Hall of Cynddylan is gloomy to-night, I weep, for th...
My Native Cot
The white cot where I spent my youth Is on yon lofty mo...
Llywarch Hen's Lament On Cynddylan
Taliesin in the sixth century. He was engaged at the batt...
The Death Of Owain
Lo! the youth, in mind a man, Daring in the battle's v...
The Sick Man's Dream
Dans le solitaire bourgade, Revant a ses maux triste...
The Circling Of The Mead Horns
Fill the blue horn, the blue buffalo horn: Natural is mead...
To The Lark
Category: The Beautiful.
"Sentinel of the morning light!
Reveller of the spring!
How sweetly, nobly wild thy flight,
Thy boundless journeying:
Far from thy brethren of the woods, alone
A hermit chorister before God's throne!
"Oh! wilt thou climb yon heav'ns for me,
Yon rampart's starry height,
Thou interlude of melody
'Twixt darkness and the light,
And seek, with heav'n's first dawn upon thy crest,
My lady love, the moonbeam of the west?
"No woodland caroller art thou;
Far from the archer's eye,
Thy course is o'er the mountain's brow,
Thy music in the sky:
Then fearless float thy path of cloud along,
Thou earthly denizen of angel song."
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