Caniadau Owen Lewis (Glan Cymerig)/Rhiwaedog Hall

Caniadau Owen Lewis (Glan Cymerig)

gan Owen Lewis (Glan Cymerig)

RHIWAEDOG HALL

(Translated by the Rev. M. Williams, Rhosygwaliau.)

RHIWAEDOG Hall, thou very ancient mansion
Wast once the home of a princely bard of fame;
A pleasant spot to trace with admiration,
The mystic history connected with thy name.
Thou standest firm a monument of ages.
Within thy walls heroes of freedom are laid,
Thy name commemorates past time of troubles,
A place where once a fierce battle raged.

The Berwyn tall, through all the revolutions
Of time, watched thee, as saying here I stand,
Looking beyond the storms of persecutions
On rays of freedom gleaming on our land;
To day the Berwyn peacefully is watching
Oppression sore dethroned, and freedom reign,
And casts a smile of joy and resolution
Upon the sacred home of "Llywarch Hen."

Around thy walls, the blood of our ancestors
Was freely shed, yea, shed for liberty;

They unto death opposed those cruel oppressors
Who would redeem their land to slavery.
Thy name is coupled, and it is in union
In history, with the noble and the brave,
In memory of Gwawr and Riryd Flaidd and Einion,
Shalt wear thy country's crown of pure love.

Yea thou hast seen the nobles of Merioneth
Persecuting men for preaching "Christ the Lord,"
But they are gone,—the Gospel still remaineth,
And temples meet are built to worship God.
Ah! thou hast seen within thy courts of old
Great pomp and glory, ancient Hall;
Yes, thou hast seen the sword of judgment bold
In vengeance's hand, putting an end to all.

Thou ancient Hall, art as a link connecting
The present and the past—thou still doest stand,
A faithful witness, in thy way relating
The changes that has happened in the land.
But thou art growing old,—thy former glory
Is now forgotten—they are few
Who know a little of thy mornful story;
Old are thy walls; the generation new.

Upon thy hills and in thy vales lay hidden
Historic treasures of the past in store;
Age after age indeed thou hast been watching
The active life of those who are no more.
Through wars and trials many thou art spared
To see peace hold her sway; thy hills and vales,
Thy smiling meadows, all are sweetly decked
With gay spring flowers of our future Wales.

Nodiadau