Informational Site NetworkInformational Site Network
Privacy
 
Home - Collection of Stories - Famous Stories - Short Stories - Wales Poetry - Yiddish Tales

Wales Poetry

The Swan
Thou swan, upon the waters bright, In lime-hued vest, like...

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

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

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

The Faithful Maiden
At the dawning of day on a morning in May, When the bi...

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

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

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

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

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

Concerning The Divine Providence
...

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

The Mountain Galloway
My tried and trusty mountain steed, Of Aberteivi's hardy...

Glan Geirionydd
. One time upon a summer day I saunter'd on the shor...

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

The Lily And The Rose
Once I saw two flowers blossom In a garden 'neath the h...

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

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

The Dawn
Streaking the mantle of deep night The rays of light ...

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



Twenty Third Psalm






Category: 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



Add to del.icio.us Add to Reddit Add to Digg Add to Del.icio.us Add to Google Add to Twitter Add to Stumble Upon
Add to Informational Site Network
Report
Privacy
SHAREADD TO EBOOK


Viewed 1769


Untitled Document