The works of Mrs. Hemans With a memoir of her life, by her sister. In seven volumes |
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OWEN GLYNDWR'S WAR SONG. |
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The works of Mrs. Hemans | ||
OWEN GLYNDWR'S WAR SONG.
Saw ye the blazing star?
The heavens look down on freedom's war,
And light her torch on high!
Bright on the dragon crest
It tells that glory's wing shall rest,
When warriors meet to die!
The heavens look down on freedom's war,
And light her torch on high!
Bright on the dragon crest
It tells that glory's wing shall rest,
When warriors meet to die!
Let earth's pale tyrants read despair,
And vengeance, in its flame;
Hail ye, my bards! the omen fair
Of conquest and of fame,
And swell the rushing mountain-air
With songs to Glyndwr's name.
And vengeance, in its flame;
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Of conquest and of fame,
And swell the rushing mountain-air
With songs to Glyndwr's name.
At the dead hour of night,
Mark'd ye how each majestic height
Burn'd in its awful beams?
Red shone th' eternal snows,
And all the land, as bright it rose,
Was full of glorious dreams!
Mark'd ye how each majestic height
Burn'd in its awful beams?
Red shone th' eternal snows,
And all the land, as bright it rose,
Was full of glorious dreams!
Oh! eagles of the battle!
rise!
The hope of Gwynedd wakes!
It is your banner in the skies,
Through each dark cloud which breaks,
And mantles, with triumphal dyes,
Your thousand hills and lakes!
The hope of Gwynedd wakes!
It is your banner in the skies,
Through each dark cloud which breaks,
And mantles, with triumphal dyes,
Your thousand hills and lakes!
A sound is on the breeze,
A murmur, as of swelling seas!
The Saxon on his way!
Lo! spear, and shield, and lance,
From Deva's waves, with lightning glance,
Reflected to the day!
A murmur, as of swelling seas!
The Saxon on his way!
Lo! spear, and shield, and lance,
From Deva's waves, with lightning glance,
Reflected to the day!
But who the torrent-wave compels
A conqueror's chain to bear?
Let those who wake the soul that dwells
On our free winds, beware!
The greenest and the loveliest dells
May be the lion's lair!
A conqueror's chain to bear?
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On our free winds, beware!
The greenest and the loveliest dells
May be the lion's lair!
Of us they told, the seers
And monarch-bards of elder years,
Who walk'd on earth, as powers!
And in their burning strains,
A spell of might and mystery reigns,
To guard our mountain-towers!
And monarch-bards of elder years,
Who walk'd on earth, as powers!
And in their burning strains,
A spell of might and mystery reigns,
To guard our mountain-towers!
—In Snowdon's caves a prophet lay:
Before his gifted sight,
The march of ages pass'd away
With hero-footsteps bright,
But proudest in that long array,
Was Glyndwr's path of light!
Before his gifted sight,
The march of ages pass'd away
With hero-footsteps bright,
But proudest in that long array,
Was Glyndwr's path of light!
The works of Mrs. Hemans | ||