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Wales Poetry

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

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

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

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

That Had Been Converted Into A May-pole In The Town Of Llanidloes, In Montgomeryshire
Ah! birch tree, with the verdant locks, And reckless min...

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

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

Gwilym Glyn And Ruth Of Dyffryn
In the depth of yonder valley, Where the fields are bright...

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

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

The Immovable Covenant
the Welsh of Mr. H. Hughes, was a Minister in the Baptist ...

The Withered Leaf
Dry the leaf above the stubble, Soon 'twill fall into ...

The Sick Man's Dream
Dans le solitaire bourgade, Revant a ses maux triste...

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

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

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

Short Is The Life Of Man
Man's life, like any weaver's shuttle, flies, Or, like a t...

The Deluge
* * * * * Whether to the east or west You go, wondr...

Translated By The Rev William Evans
God doth withhold no good from those Who meekly fear him ...

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



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



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