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Wales Poetry

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...

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

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

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

The Hall Of Cynddylan
The Hall of Cynddylan is gloomy to-night, I weep, for th...

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

The Mother To Her Child After Its Father's Death
My gentle child, thou dost not know Why still on thee ...

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

Woman
Gentle Woman! thou most perfect Work of the Divine Arc...

Dafydd Ap Gwilym's Invocation To The Summer To Visit Glamorganshire,
Where he spent many happy years at the hospitable mansion o...

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

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 ...

Ode To Cambria
Cambria, I love thy genius bold; Thy dreadful rites, and...

An Address To The Summer
of Llanbadarn Fawr, Cardiganshire, and was born about ...

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

To The Daisy
Oh, flower meek and modest That blooms of all the soonest,...

The Rose Of The Glen
Although I've no money or treasure to give, No palace or c...

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

Translations From Miscellaneous Welsh Hymns
Had I but the wings of a dove, To regions afar I'd repa...



To The Nightingale






Category: The Beautiful.

river of that name was born at Mold, in Flintshire, in the year 1797, and
died in 1840, in the parish of Manordeivi, Pembrokeshire, of which he was
Rector. He participated much in the Eisteddfodau of that period, and his
poems gained many of their prizes. He also edited the "Gwladgarwr," or
the Patriot, a monthly magazine, and afterwards the "Cylchgrawn," or
Circle of Grapes, another magazine, under the auspices of the Society for
the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. The subjects of this poet's
compositions were patriotic, sentimental and religious, and his poems are
characterised by deep pathos, and great sweetness of diction.]

When night o'erspreads each hill and dale
Beneath its darksome wing
Are heard thy sweet and mellow notes
Through the lone midnight ring;
And if a pang within thy breast
Should cause thy heart to bleed,
Thou wilt not hush until the dawn
Shall drive thee from the mead.

* * * * *

Altho' thy heart beneath the pang
Should falter in its throes
Thou wilt not grieve thy nestlings young,
Thy song thou wilt not close.
When all the chorus of the bush
By night and sleep are still,
Thou then dost chant thy merriest lays,
And heaven with music fill.





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Previous: To The Spring


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