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Wales PoetrySong Of The Foster-son, LoveI got a foster-son, whose name was Love, From one endu... The Fairy's Song "Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy!"--SHAKSPEARE. ... Roderic's Lament Farewell every mountain To memory dear, Each streamlet... The Legend Of Trwst Llywelyn Once upon a time, Llywelyn was returning from a great battl... An Address To The Summer of Llanbadarn Fawr, Cardiganshire, and was born about ... The Sick Man's Dream Dans le solitaire bourgade, Revant a ses maux triste... The Dawn Streaking the mantle of deep night The rays of light ... Sad Died The Maiden Sad died the Maiden! and heaven only knew The anguish s... The Holly Grove Sweet holly grove, that soarest A woodland fort, an armed ... The Eisteddfod, Strike the harp: awake the lay! Let Cambria's voice be h... Taliesin's Prophecy A 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 World And The Sea: A Comparison Like the world and its dread changes Is the ocean when it ... The Monarchy Of Britain Sons of the Fair Isle! forget not the time, Ere spoilers h... The Swan Thou swan, upon the waters bright, In lime-hued vest, like... The Bard's Long-tried Affection For Morfydd All my lifetime I have been Bard to Morfydd, "golden m... The Faithful Maiden At the dawning of day on a morning in May, When the bi... The Shipwreck a Welsh Congregationalist Minister, and an eminent poet.... The Immovable Covenant the Welsh of Mr. H. Hughes, was a Minister in the Baptist ... Short Is The Life Of Man Man's life, like any weaver's shuttle, flies, Or, like a t... |
Walter SeleCategory: 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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