Papurau Newydd Cymru

Chwiliwch 15 miliwn o erthyglau papurau newydd Cymru

Cuddio Rhestr Erthyglau

12 erthygl ar y dudalen hon

POETR. y.

Newyddion
Dyfynnu
Rhannu

POETR. y. THE CONVERSE OF MEASURES NOT MEN." Tra maen yn troi mown inelin, Tra llong yn ilawn o ladin. Tra mor v tawlu tonIJa" r lanti, Mi vota n rann v Stradiin. An Old Glamorgan Election Englyn. FAMILY POETRY—THE CONFESSION. The.e'" "omewha' on my breast fa^'hei, There's somewhat on my breast TLe livelong day I sigh father, At night I cannot rest; I I,canuot take my rest, father, Though 1 would fain do so, A weary weight oppresseth me This weary weight of wo 'I" iio* the lack of sold, father, Nor lack of wordly gear Mv lands are bmad and tair to see, My friends are kind and (lear Mv kin are leal and true, father, They mourn to see my grief. 13, oh 'tis not a kinsman's hand Can give my heart relief I "J Is not that Janet's false father, 'Tis not that she's unkind Though busy flatterers swarm around, I know her constant mind. not her coldness, father, That chills my labouring breast- It's that confounded cucumber I've eat and can't digest. Blackwood'i Mayaxine. FONG. bY LADY EMMELINE STUART WORTLEY. I. Moon! thou hast gently won Now thy high place and free, "Shedding calm looks upon Misery and me S. Those lovely beams and bright, Almost appear to be Smiles sent to awaken night, Memoiy and me 3. IVIoon those pure ray,; ere long- Smilin., undimmed—may see Borne—yon dark yews among- Death-but not me! 4. Haply, to fair realms flown I may look down on tbee, While deathless joys shall crown Myriads and me! THE DESTRUCTION OF JERUSALEM. Hark! 'tis the rush of battle Loud and strong The wild wind bears its echomg shouts along; Trumpets, and clashing arms, and boisterou cries, And snorti-n, steeds, and thundering batteries, Roar in commingling tumult wide and far, And drown the deadlier disonance of war The shriek, the dying groan, tiie wailing cry. The wretches' curse, the prayer of misery, Breathed in extremest need to Him whose ear Amidst the ravings of the storm can hear, Whose pity even for those condemned to die, Disdains not Mercy's stiil imploring cry. Back rolls the tide from ocean's cavern'd shore, On moveless rocks returning billows roar So Zion's sons the desperate shock sustain, The stream of carnage ebbs and flows again, Till heaven's wide concave glows with wasting fires; From tower and dowe the vaulting blaze aspires," Encircling flames her spacious courts consume, Her cedar'd roofs exude their rich perfume. Her marble floors in crackling fragments fly. Her golden gates in molten ruin lie. Temples, and towers, and palaces descend. With peasant homes in stern destruction blend And thou, even thou, whose venerable state, Magnificent, amidst the frowns of fate, Like Sinai, 'mid Arabia's desert sands; Even thou assail'd by sacrilegious hands, Imperial Salem's pride, Jehovah's shrine, The sacred dwelling of the Guest Divine, Even tholl, to wrath in this decisive hour Must bend, stern trophy of the Gentiles' power. Yes, 'tis the day of vengeance, long foretold! The foes of Zion triumph; fierce and bold The Heathen plants his standard on that "throne Where dwells, in light, the Invisible, alone! Rome's blood-stained eagles there their pinions spread, Where once the Ineffable his glory shed; Jehovah's house polluting idols stain, And proud idolaters his name profane Ititrusive to that dread arcanum press. Where erst enshrined in fearful holiness, veiled his awful Majesty from view, And round his throne the mystic curtain drew. yet stay, presumptuous Heat-hen own his power. Revere hi* judgments in this dreadful hour 1.0, Zion faints beneath the frown of God! And what art thou?—the sword, the scourge, the rnd, Messiah's Kingdom.—liy AGNES BULM.PR.

CHIT CHAT.

SCR1 P'J URE TLLUSTRA o. 94.…

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MOON'S AGE.