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Wales Poetry

Tribanau
Serjeant Parry, the eminent barrister) says: "The followin...

Walter Sele
O'er Walter's bed no foot shall tread, Nor step unhallo...

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

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

The Lament Op Llywarch Hen
The bright hours return, and the blue sky is ringing ...

The Praise And Commendation Of A Good Woman
As a wise child excells the sceptr'd fool Who of conceit a...

My Father-land
Land of the Cymry! thou art still, In rock and valley, str...

My Native Cot
The white cot where I spent my youth Is on yon lofty mo...

Farewell To Wales
The voice of thy streams in my spirit I bear; Farewell; ...

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

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

Concerning The Divine Providence
...

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

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

May And November
Sweet May, ever welcome! the palace of leaves Thy hand for...

Translations From Miscellaneous Welsh Hymns
Had I but the wings of a dove, To regions afar I'd repa...

Song To Arvon
by the Rev. Evan Evans, a Clergyman of the Church of Eng...

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

An Address To The Summer
of Llanbadarn Fawr, Cardiganshire, and was born about ...

To May
the following and several other poems in this collection. ...



Walter Sele






Category: The Patriotic.

O'er Walter's bed no foot shall tread,
Nor step unhallow'd roam;
For here the grave hath found a grave,
The wanderer a home.
This little mound encircles round
A heart that once could feel;
For none possess'd a warmer heart
Than gallant Walter Sele.

The primrose pale, from Derwen vale,
Through spring shall sweetly bloom,
And here, I ween, the evergreen
Shall shed its death perfume;
The branching tree of rosemary
The sweet thyme may conceal;
But both shall wave above the grave
Of gallant Walter Sele.

They brand with shame my true love's name,
And call him traitor vile,
Who dar'd disclose to Charlie's foes
The secret postern aisle;
But though, alas! that fatal pass
He rashly did reveal,
He ne'er betray'd his maniac maid,--
My gallant Walter Sele!





Next: My Father-land

Previous: The Fairy's Song



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