Wales PoetryThe Mountain Galloway
My tried and trusty mountain steed, Of Aberteivi's hardy...
The Hall Of Cynddylan
The Hall of Cynddylan is gloomy to-night, I weep, for th...
Land of the Cymry! thou art still, In rock and valley, str...
a Welsh Congregationalist Minister, and an eminent poet....
Gwilym Glyn And Ruth Of Dyffryn
In the depth of yonder valley, Where the fields are bright...
To The Nightingale
river of that name was born at Mold, in Flintshire, in the...
The Immovable Covenant
the Welsh of Mr. H. Hughes, was a Minister in the Baptist ...
Twenty Third Psalm
My shepherd is the Lord above, Who ne'er will suffer me to...
My Native Land
My soul is sad, my spirit fails, And sickness in my he...
Translated By The Rev William Evans
God doth withhold no good from those Who meekly fear him ...
The Lament Op Llywarch Hen
The bright hours return, and the blue sky is ringing ...
By The Rev Rees Prichard, Ma
King of the mighty hills! thy crown of snow Thou reares...
The Cuckoo's Tale
Hail, bird of sweet melody, heav'n is thy home; With the...
The Castles Of Wales
Ye fortresses grey and gigantic I see on the hills of...
The Poor Man's Grave
'Neath the yew tree's gloomy branches, Rears a mound ...
To The Lark
"Sentinel of the morning light! Reveller of the...
The Flowers Of Spring
beautiful stanzas, from which the following translation ...
Dafydd Ap Gwilym's Invocation To The Summer To Visit Glamorganshire,
Where he spent many happy years at the hospitable mansion o...
An Ode On The Death Of Hoel
of the sixth century. He was himself a soldier, and d...
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!
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