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64

TLYSAU PENNILLION, or POETICAL BLOSSOMS, and PASTORALS. Gwyn eu byd yr adar gwylltion

How happy is the wild-fowl's state ! Hwy gånt vyn’d i'r van y vynnon ;

To the sea, or mountains flying ; Weithiau i'r môr, ac'weithiau i'r mynydd,

True and constant to its mate, A dyvod adrev yn ddigerydd.

Free and happy, living, dying.

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Trom yw

Ni bu verch erioed gan laned,

There never was a maid so fair, Ni bu verch erioed gan wynned,

There never was such shape and air ; Ni bu néb o verched dynion,

There never was of woman kind, Nés na hon i dorri'nghalon.

One half so suited to my mind.

000000000000000000000000000000000 Trwm yw'r plwin, a thrwm yw'r cerrig,

Sad, and heavy finks the stone, calon pób dyn unig ;

On the lake's smooth surface thrown; Trymma peth dan baul a lleuad,

Man opprefld by sorrow's weight
Canu'n iach, lle byddo cariad !

Sadly finks beneath his fate;
But the saddest thing to tell,

Is to love, and bid farewel!

000000000000000000000000000000000 Gwych gan gerlyn yn ei wely,

Happy the miser e'er will be, Glywed fên y troellau'n nyddu !

His wealth to see augmenting round ; Gwych gan innau Duw a’drycho,

Bụt that is gay which pleaseth me, Glywed fiôn y tannau'n tiwnio !

When notes agree with voices crown'd! 000000000000000000000000000000000

Wild o'er the main the tempest flies,

The radiant sun deserts the skies; Gwynt ar vór, a haul ar vynydd,

Grey stones the naked heath deform, Cerrig llwydion yn lle coedydd ;

And loud and piteous howls the storm ; A guêplanod yn lle dynion,

Shrill screams the hungry gulis between,
Och ! Duw pa' vodd na thorrai’nghalon !

And defolation blasts the scene.
What heart such terrors can endure,
Save in thy aid, my God, fecure!

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gan

amled yn y

Mae varchnad,

As oft in the market the skin of the Lamb Groen yr Oen; a chroen y Ddavad;

As the skin of the Ewe is seen : A chan amled yn y llan,

Nor more common in church-yards tobury the dame, Gladdu'r Verch, a chladdu'r Vam !

Than her daughter of blooming fifteen.

000000000000000000000000000000000 Mynd i'r ardd i dorri pwysi,

For
my

breast a nosegay chusing, Gwrthod lavant, gwrthod lili,

Every fragrant flow'r refusing ; Gwrthod mintys, a rhós cochion,

I pass'd the lilies, and the roses, A Dewis pwyl o ddanadl poethion !

And of the nettle made my posies * ! 000000000000000000000000000000obo

1.

I.

Gwyn vy m’d, na vawn mor happus,
Yn y b d, a cbael vy newis,
Mi ddewiswn o flaen cyvoeth,
Lendid prid, a chariad perffaith!

From pleasure's universal stores,
Nor wealth, nor power my heart implores ;
But beauty's fair, ingenuous face,
And faithful love's fincere embrace.

Ve gair cyvoeth ond cynnilo,

Beauty, too venal, may be hir’d, Ve gair tír ond talu 'm dano ;

And land be purchal’d, wealth acquir’d; Ve gair glendid ond ymovyn ;

Bur happiness that ne'er was bought, Ni chair mwynder, ond gan Rywun.

Muft in One fair-one's arms be fought. * Alluding to the choice of a wife.

S

Rhywun

66

TLYSAU PENNILLION, or POETICAL BLOSSOMS, and PASTORALS.

3.

3.
Rhywun sydd! a Rhywun etto!

Some Fair there is, fome chosen Fair,
Ac am Rywun'r wy'n myvyrio !

Whose charms, my constant thought and care,
Pan vwyv drymma'r nos yn cysgu,

My sleeping breast too keenly move,
Ve ddaw Rbywun, ac am deffry !

And wake me from the dreams of love.

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Os collais i vy.nghariad lån,

Should I lose my fairest love,
Mae brán i vrán

For a dove there's still a dove
In rhywle ;

Somewhere or other to be found;
Wrth ei bôdd y bo hi byw,

At heart's-ease may she ever be!
Ag' wllys Dumo

What-ever heav'n designs for me,
I minne'!

May she in peace and joy abound!

000000000000000000000000000000000
Ni chân Cóg ddim amser gaua',

In wintry months the Cuckoo will not sing ;
Ni chân Felyn heb ddim tannau ;

Nor will the Harp resound without a string;
Ni chân Calon hawdd i'ch' wybod

With one bright thought the bosom cannot glow,
Pan vo galar ar ei gwaelod !

Opprefs'd by grief, and overcome by woe.

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Clywais ddadwrdd, clywais ddwndrio,

Whispers I've heard, and harsh report,
Clywais ran o'r byd yn beio ;

And half the world reprove the rest,
Erioed ni chlywais neb

But none in all this vast resort,
Vawr o'i hynod veiau ei hunan!

Who much of their own faults confeit.

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Gwell na 'r gwin yw'r Médd pêr hidlaid,

On Mead.
Diod Beirdd yr hen Vrutaniaid ;

Nectar of bees, not Bacchus here behold,
Gwin a bair ynvydrwydd cynnen,

Which British Bards were wont to quaff of old ;
Ond yn y Medd, mae dawn yr Awen !

The berries of the grape with furies (well,
But in the honeycomb, the Muses dwell!

See also page 210
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In hén, ac yn ieuangc, yn gall, ac yn fól,

The men will be courting, tho' me they despise,
r merched sy'n grora, a minnau ar yr

Young women and old, both the foolish, and wise
Pam y mae 'r meibion i'm gweled mor wael,

Ah, why am I doom'd to escape their fond view,
A minnau gan laned'a merched sy'n cael ?

When I'am as fair, as the Nymphs they pursue ?

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Mi av oddi-yma i'r Havod Lom,

What though the journey's long I trow,
Er bod yn drom vy siwrnai ;

Yet hence to Havod Lom I'll go ;
Mi gáv yno ganu caings,

There chanting many a tuneful fit
Ac eiste' ar vaingc y fomnai ;

Safe in the chimney-corner fit,
Ac ond odid dyna'r van,

And, haply, on that happy fill,
r byddav dan y borau.

The morn's return shall find me still.

000000000000000000000000000000000
Rhaid i bawb newidio byd,

The stage of life we all must leave,
Ve wêyr pob ehud angall;

And death will yield us ease;
Pa waeth marw o gariad púr,

As well may love our breath bereave,
Na marw oddolur arall ?

As some more flow disease.

000000000000000000000000000000000
Chwi, rai ysgavn ar eich troed,

Ye, light of foot, who tun for Fame,
T'ngrymmus oed eich blodau;

With manly bloom elate;
Ymwnewch i ffoi, chwi'gewch glód ;

Out-strip-you'll gain a deathless name
O diengwch rhag nôd Angau.

The winged shaft of Fate.

Caniad

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Caniad y Góg i Veirionydd*.

The Cuckoo's Song to Meirionydd.
Er a welais dpn y ser,

What e'er I've seen beneath the sky,
O lawıder, Jewder gwledydd ;

To chear the heart, and charm the eye,
O gwrte da, a.gwyr i'w drin,

The sprightly board, the sparkling glass,
A gwinwesto agonydd :

While swift and sweet, the minutes pass ;
Goreu bin göreu bwyd,

All these, beside her rivers clear,
Aranwyd he trionydd. Feirimydd

Of dear Meirionydd's plains appear.
Eidion du a dynn ei did,

To break the sods, and draw the chain,
Ondodid i ddyn dedwydd,

The sturdy Ox will stoutly strain
I dorri ei gwys ar dir ac ár,

O'er furrows stiff, and fallow dales,
A braenar yn y bronnydd ;

His nervous vigor never fails :
Goreu tynn, fei gwyr y tâd,

Far stronger chains to draw the heart,
Morwynion gwlad Meirionydd.

Meirionydd's matchless Maids impart.
Da ydyw'r gwaith, rhaid dweyd y gwir,

Tho, dark and dreary, bleak and bare,
Ar Ffyniau Sir Veirionydd,

Meirionydd's rugged rocks appear ;
Golwg oer o'r gwaela gawn ;

Tho'on her mountains nature frowns,
Mae hi etto'n llawn llawenydd :

Contentment ev'ry valley crowns.
Pwy ddisgwyliai" canai'r Góg,

Who could expect the Cuckoo's song,
Mewn mownog yn y mynydd ?

The mouldring mountain-heath among ?
Pwy sydd Ian o bryd agwedd,

How finely form'd in shape, and face,
Ond rhydedd mewn pentre add

The ruddy Nymphs of rural race !
en een groenteroldd ymdriniaeth
Pwy symbol
oferimen da,

Where can such-industry be seen,
In gwlwm sydenhydrycht

As on the crowded village green?
Pwysy'n yogyl dwyn dy ngbo?

Ah ! who alone all hearts can gain ?
Morwyniod bro Meirionydd.

Meirionydd's blooming village train.
Glánytt gleifiad yn y llyn,

5.

Fair in the Dee's delightful streams,
Nid ydyw hyn ddim newydd ;

The filver-Shining Salmon seems;
Faitta

Fair, the Thrush's mottled breast,
Dan danu si hadenydd :

Brooding o'er her mosfy nest,
Glanach
yw, 0. gwir, wedyd

But fairer, lovelier, to my mind,
Morwynion tir Meirionydd.

Are dear Meirionydd's Damsels kind.
Anwyl yw gan adar byd,

Wild in the woodlands, blithe and free,
Eu rhyddid hyd y coedydd ;

Dear to the bird is liberty ;
2 2 Anwyl yw gan taban laeth

Dear to the Babe, to be carefl'd,
Ei fammaeth,
odiaeth ddedwydd;

And fondled on his Nurse's breast

;
ON! ni Alwedwn yn fy myw,

But in my heart I hold more dear,
Mor anwyl yw Meirionydd!

Meirionydd's dusky deserts drear,
ta
Mwyn yw Telyn kami

7.

How sweet the Harp's harmonious found,
Lle byddoeulu dedwydd ;

When the alternate Rhymes go round:
3
Pawb a'i bennill yn ei

What for the Mifer's hoard care we,
Heb són am y cybydd :

The happy fons of Harmony?
Mwyn y cân o ddeutu 'r tân,

But softer, sweeter, every strain,
Morwynion glän Meirionydd.

Sung by Meirionydd's tuneful Train.
pEr bod fy nghorfin mewn bugen bød,

8.

On sea, or shore, where e'r I range,
Mayniden
In rhodio hyd y gwledydd,

Tho' oft the busy scene I change,
windir
Wrn cael y môr a thir,

No reft I find; but anxious roam,
Ni chat yn wir mòr llonydd ;

To spend my happiest hours at home,
Myned adref i mi sy raid :

Meirionydd, matchless Land, divine,
Mae'r Enaid y Meirionydd.

My very heart, and soul are thine.
This Song was originally the composition of the late Mr. Lewis Morris :I have now the pleasure to present my readers
with a new English version of this elegant native Ballad, which contains all the alliterative beauty, characteristic of Welsh
Poetry; which was versified, at my particular request, by my late friend, the Rey, Richard Williams of Vron, in Flintshire.

Gwn

WAWW!!!!?!!?!!!!!!!!!!!RARY

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