Welsh Minstrelsy; Containing the Land Beneath the Sea, Or, Cantrev y Gwaelod, a Poem in Three Cantos, with Various Other Poems

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1824 Excerpt: ...what may more move, 'Tis not selfish woman capricious in love, And yet, sooth to say, 'tis a cause, tis a cause, On leaving his birth-land may well bid him pause: --He thought of the ever-loved scenes of his child-hood! Thy valleys Traloneth! thy mountain and wild-wood.--And he said "I would see ye--dear haunts of my youth!" And he wends to old Cymry's fair vales of the south, Though ye boast not a roof nor an acre of mine, Yet, land of my birth, my affections are thine! I'll pause on your charms--then with wild lightning speed, Hey! for the the ocean!--and farewell indeed. O'er mountains of sunshine and valleys of shadow He reached the fair Wye, and the cursed Aberedw, The traitor's vile adder-nest! mighty no more, Now banned in its fame for its baseness of yore: But turning to Llanvair, oh bright beams his eye As he sees, and thus sings the loved Sevi-lan-Gwy. THE SEVI-LAN-GWY.2 Dear was the laurel to nations of yore, The hero's proud brow to encircle; The leaf of the vine, bacchanalians wore, And lovers, soft lovers! aye ever adore The chaplet of Venus, the myrtle! The brow of the bard wore the ever-green bay, Young virgins and priestesses, flowerets gay, And mourners in garments so woefully dun, Affected the cypress and fled from the sun: But I nor affect nor the myrtle nor vine, The cypress nor bay nor the laurel divine, In the rough clime of Britain that languish and die, More dear to my heart the Welsh Sevi-lan-Gvvy. Oh pass not unmarked, tho' it sprouts among weeds, O'ershadowed, forlorn, and neglected, That herb midst the wild-grass and high hollow reeds, The loved meed of Fame, once, for martial deeds, Though now it droops low and dejected: (So low, so dejected, unnoted and lorn Art thou, modest worth! in obscurity born--Thou, like the me...