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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455791" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Massacre of the Bards</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The sunlight from the sky is swept,<br>But, over Snowdon's summit kept,<br>One brand of cloud yet burns,<br>By ghostly hands far out of sight,<br>Held, glowing, in the even-light,<br>As Fate still keeps the weapon bright<br>That lingers and returns.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">- - - - - -</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O day of slaughter! Day of woe!<br>But once, a thousand years ago,<br>Such day has Britain seen;<br>When blushed her hoary hills with shame<br>At Mona's sacrifice of flame;<br>While shrieks from out the burning came<br>Across the strait between.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Death-helping day! That couldst not find<br>One weeping cloud to hide behind!<br>Cursed day whose light was given<br>For search-mate to the Saxon sword<br>Through coverts that our rocks afford,<br>While Edward's godless minions poured<br>The blood of the unshriven!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">- - - - - -</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ill fare we when the trees are rent,<br>Whose friendly shelter erst was lent<br>In sun, and wind, and rain.<br>Ill fare we when the thunder-shocks<br>Let loose the torrents from their rocks,<br>To sweep away the mountain-flocks,<br>And flood the standing grain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But where the forest-giants groan,<br>By winds that waste the woods o'erthrown,<br>New saplings blithely spring!<br>Sank herd and harvest 'neath the tide?<br>There's bleating on the mountain-side;<br>O'er cornfields, ere the dew has dried<br>To-morrow's lark shall sing!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sore sighs the land when she has need<br>The dragon-jaws of war to feed<br>With those who love her best;<br>And long shall Cambria's tears be shed<br>For him who late her armies led,<br>Llewellyn, whose dissevered head<br>The Saxon crowned in jest!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet, in their stead whose blood is spilt,<br>Newcomers seize the sword's warm hilt,<br>Or o'er it reach the ground!<br>Llewellyn! every night-watch drear<br>With grief for thee, brings morning near;<br>That morn when Arthur shall appear,<br>Once more our leader crowned!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But when the blood of bards is poured,<br>Who gathers their forgotten hoard<br>From memories sealed by fate?<br>What daring songster e'er shall soar<br>For us to Heaven's death-guarded door,<br>And tell thereafter of the store<br>That glimmers through the grate?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When Famine's empty hand is filled,<br>When years the shattered oaks rebuild,<br>Shall heroes spring again,<br>Brave spirits of the past to greet<br>Who rise at minstrel-summons sweet,<br>When bards the olden tales repeat<br>Of Britain's mighty slain?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nay, by the harps our fathers heard<br>No more shall Britain's heart be stirred,<br>Lost is the ancient lore!<br>Spent is the breath of song, that fanned<br>Freedom's low fires! The bard's light hand,<br>Whose beckoning brought the martial band,<br>Shall seek the strings no more!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mary+Hannay+Foott">Mary Hannay Foott</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455791" data-title="The Massacre of the Bards de Mary Hannay Foott" data-description="The sunlight from the sky is swept,
But, over Snowdon's summit kept,
One brand of cloud yet burns,
By ghostly hands far out of sight,
Held, glowing, in the even-light,
As Fate still keeps the weapon bright
That lingers and returns.

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