Felecia Hemans, around 1870
Saw ye the blazing star?|
The Heav'ns looked down on Freedom's war
And lit 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 Glyndyr's name!
2. At the dead hour of night,|
Marked 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! eagle of the battles, rise,
The hope of Gwyned wakes;
It is your banner in the skies
Thro' each dark cloud that breaks,
And mantles with triumphal dyes
Your thousand hills and lakes.
3. 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 ay.
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!
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