Papurau Newydd Cymru

Chwiliwch 15 miliwn o erthyglau papurau newydd Cymru

Cuddio Rhestr Erthyglau

12 erthygl ar y dudalen hon

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Newyddion
Dyfynnu
Rhannu

POETRY. mob- SONNET. THE IRIS II CHURCH. Friends of the suflerinz Couich, I now salute ye, Ihii iiig with joy the rich gist* sent from all I.iiglaad" (once more—and few resist her call) "xj ecis that every ;n;in wi;| Jo his ,luty." Not war-clati now—but sneaking in the beauty Of -ss—her Church is he id iu thrail By Ireland'* bigots, who would work her fall But sue shall be their r-fug.—not their booty ^Or faith can view as present, future time Ai..i tctmgh far «>1F, in that now wretched clime, See love and peace replacing hate and crime. Bear up then, iir:i>iy, persecuted ha fid I— Brave threats of death bv famine, sword, and brand, tor Gou ts with you—succour is at hand. LOV TIC.YT. I.ovcntir.m in the rfavs gone by, F ro, n at 0\ stager Ptolemy I Mis prov'd beyond a doubt, Thoa wer't u Reman town i:»* Wales, But all a.13 To trace tliv riiiut out: Some, who their guide Tradition make, clp:ne ill [lie 1-ke We Llynsavaddan cail; And faith 'tis deep to cram Within it street, square, circus, am- phitheatre and all, Others again as stoutly say 'Ihv IKJUM-S were but buiit of clay. But thatch'd with reeds or straw Aui! then no wonder, above ground, No reiii s can of thee be found fo fill the world with a we. B -it shatne I deem it to run down, A:id of a good old R^aiaQ town, Its wigwam thus to make As more poetic of the two, I hold the former story truer Thou'rt buried in the lake. How, lost one, thou wer't lit, or pav'rf, Thy belles .how fair, and how behav'd, Thy puhlic shows how gay. Which thy head inn, and what its sign, Who thy crack Doctor, best Divine, No mortal tongue can say. Whether thou had'st a Mayor or no, Or Aldermen, no records show, «. A^Cjiiiicil old, or new; I oiuy hope they did not mix iiiciuselves iu i)Lr-y politics, At far to many do. Whether thy Lawyers and Were slow or quick in taking feel, This only can we state, fis probable, if Tlht or wron^, Jo this they b'->re resemblance strong To those of modern date: Howe'er it br, in Trajan's reign Thou ",er't atown 'tis plain, Well known upon the road; And often, when the march was done, Ostorius herp, at set of sun, His troops their billets show'd. Perchance upon some future day, Pompeii like, th>u wilt display Thv gloiies to our view •, Pcrchance into thine hiding place Sume labouring hind »i 1 have the grace To dr;ve his mattock through. Perchance, hnt why in idle rhyme. Or vain conjectures, waste the time, SufTice it now to know, Like Carthage, Tmy. and Babylon, Loventii;;n, thou art only gone The w ay we a:l must go. BRFCONIFNIIS. Pto CTTIV was a celebrated typographical writer, the Paterae of the liomans. _+.

SCl lPTURE ! LU/STRA TIO_VS,-No.…

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LITERARY MOTIVE.

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I PORTSMOUTH, JANUARY, 16.

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AG HI CULTURE, COMMERCE, AND…

LOCAL MARKETS. .

MOON S AGE. I