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Wales PoetryTaliesin's ProphecyA voice from time departed, yet floats thy hills among,... My Native Land My soul is sad, my spirit fails, And sickness in my he... The Vengeance Of Owain {96} Gruffydd ab Cynan, Prince of Gwynedd, or North Wales, and ... An Ode On The Death Of Hoel of the sixth century. He was himself a soldier, and d... Snowdon King of the mighty hills! thy crown of snow Thou reares... To May the following and several other poems in this collection. ... Gwilym Glyn And Ruth Of Dyffryn In the depth of yonder valley, Where the fields are bright... The Mountain Galloway My tried and trusty mountain steed, Of Aberteivi's hardy... 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 ... Song To Arvon by the Rev. Evan Evans, a Clergyman of the Church of Eng... Concerning The Divine Providence ... The Immovable Covenant the Welsh of Mr. H. Hughes, was a Minister in the Baptist ... The Battle Of Gwenystrad contemporary of Aneurin in the sixth century. He appe... To The Daisy Oh, flower meek and modest That blooms of all the soonest,... An Ode To The Thunder his bardic name of Dafydd Ionawr, was born in the year 1... The Banks Of The Dee One morning in May, when soft breezes were blowing O'er... The Hall Of Cynddylan The Hall of Cynddylan is gloomy to-night, I weep, for th... The Golden Goblet, In Imitation Of Gothe There was a king in Mon, {62} A true lover to his grave; ... The Faithful Maiden At the dawning of day on a morning in May, When the bi... The Song Of The Fisherman's Wife Restless wave! be still and quiet, Do not heed the win... |
Twenty Third PsalmCategory: The Religious. My shepherd is the Lord above, Who ne'er will suffer me to rove; In Him I'll trust, he is so good, He'll never let me want for food. To pastures green and flow'ry meads, His happy flock he gently leads, Where water in abundance flows, And where luxuriant herbage grows. When o'er my bounds I chance to roam, My shepherd finds and brings me home; And when I wander o'er the plain, He drives me to the fold again. Or should I hap to lose my way, And in death's gloomy valley stray, I need not ever be dismay'd, For God himself will be my aid. In whate'er pasture I abide, He still is present at my side; His rod, his crook, his shepherd's staff, In every path shall keep me safe. My soul with comfort overflows, In spite of all my numerous foes; And thou with richness hast, O Lord! And plenty crown'd my crowded board. His precious balms, my God hath shed, Upon my highly favoured head: And with the blessings of the Lord, My larder is completely stor'd. His bounty and his mercies past, Shall follow me unto the last; And, for his favours shown to me, His house, my home shall ever be. To God, the Father--and the Son-- And Holy Spirit--Three-in-one, Let us our bounden homage pay, Each hour, each moment of the day! Next: Short Is The Life Of Man Previous: The Praise And Commendation Of A Good Woman
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