(_A Negro Sermon_) And God stepped out on space, And He looked around and said, _"I'm lonely-- I'll make me a world."_ And far as the eye of God could see Darkness covered everything, Blacker than a hundred midnights Down in a cypress ... Read more of The Creation at Martin Luther King.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Wales Poetry

Taliesin's Prophecy
A voice from time departed, yet floats thy hills among,...

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

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

To The Nightingale
river of that name was born at Mold, in Flintshire, in the...

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

A Bridal Song
Wilt thou not waken, bride of May, While the flowers are...

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

The Flowers Of Spring
beautiful stanzas, from which the following translation ...

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

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

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

An Ode To The Thunder
his bardic name of Dafydd Ionawr, was born in the year 1...

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

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

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

To The Lark
"Sentinel of the morning light! Reveller of the...

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

Snowdon
King of the mighty hills! thy crown of snow Thou reares...

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...



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.





Next: The Flowers Of Spring

Previous: To The Spring



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