Welsh Lyrics of the Nineteenth Century
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In our eReader you can find the full English version of the book. Read Welsh Lyrics of the Nineteenth Century Online - link to read the book on full screen. Our eReader also allows you to upload and read Pdf, Txt, ePub and fb2 books. In the Mini eReder on the page below you can quickly view all pages of the book - Read Book Welsh Lyrics of the Nineteenth Century
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To quickly assess the difficulty of the text, read a short excerpt:
The Pauper's Grave.
Lo! a grassy mound, where lowers Branching wide a sombre yew, Rises as to catch the showers, Jewelled showers, of heaven-sent dew. Many a one with foot unheeding, Tramples down its verdure brave, Hurrying onward, careless treading, -- It is but a pauper's grave.
Workhouse hirelings from the Union Bore him to his last, lone bed, "Dust to dust, " that sad communion Woke no grief, no tear was shed. Worn by woes and life's denials, Only rest he now would crave:Quiet haven from a...ll trials To the pauper is his grave.
E'en the rough-hewn stone is broken, Where some rude, untutored handCarved two letters, as a token Of their boyhood's scattered band, And when bright Palm Sunday neareth, When the dead remembrance crave, Friend nor brother garland beareth For the pauper's squalid grave.
Not for him the Muse which weepeth, Carved in marble rich and rare;Even now time's ploughshare creepeth Through the grass which groweth there. O'er the place where he is sleeping Soon will roll oblivion's wave:Still God's angel will be keeping Ward above the pauper's grave.
What to read after Welsh Lyrics of the Nineteenth Century?
You can find similar books in the "Read Also" column, or choose other free books by Edmund O Jones to read onlineMoreLess
To quickly assess the difficulty of the text, read a short excerpt:
The Pauper's Grave.
Lo! a grassy mound, where lowers Branching wide a sombre yew, Rises as to catch the showers, Jewelled showers, of heaven-sent dew. Many a one with foot unheeding, Tramples down its verdure brave, Hurrying onward, careless treading, -- It is but a pauper's grave.
Workhouse hirelings from the Union Bore him to his last, lone bed, "Dust to dust, " that sad communion Woke no grief, no tear was shed. Worn by woes and life's denials, Only rest he now would crave:Quiet haven from a...ll trials To the pauper is his grave.
E'en the rough-hewn stone is broken, Where some rude, untutored handCarved two letters, as a token Of their boyhood's scattered band, And when bright Palm Sunday neareth, When the dead remembrance crave, Friend nor brother garland beareth For the pauper's squalid grave.
Not for him the Muse which weepeth, Carved in marble rich and rare;Even now time's ploughshare creepeth Through the grass which groweth there. O'er the place where he is sleeping Soon will roll oblivion's wave:Still God's angel will be keeping Ward above the pauper's grave.
What to read after Welsh Lyrics of the Nineteenth Century?
You can find similar books in the "Read Also" column, or choose other free books by Edmund O Jones to read onlineMoreLess
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