#Welsh
Oh who will show me those delights… Echo I Thou Echo, thou art mortal, all m… Echo No Wert thou not born among the trees…
Sorry I am, my God, sorry I am, That my offences course it in a ri… My thoughts are working like a bus… Until their cockatrice they hatch… And when they once have perfected…
Broken in pieces all asunder, Lord, hunt me not, A thing forgot, Once a poor creature, now a wonder… A wonder tortur’d in the space
Oh all ye, who pass by, whose eyes… To worldly things are sharp, but t… To me, who took eyes that I might… Was ever grief like mine? The Princes of my people make a h…
Lord, with what care hast Thou be… Parents first season us; then scho… Deliver us to laws; –they send us… To rules of reason, holy messenger… Pulpits and Sundays, sorrow doggi…
Come, my Way, my Truth, my Life: Such a Way, as gives us breath: Such a Truth, as ends all strife: And such a Life, as killeth death… Come, my Light, my Feast, my Str…
Love bade me welcome: yet my soul… Guilty of dust and sin. But quick-ey’d Love, observing me… From my first entrance in, Drew nearer to me, sweetly questio…
Almightie Judge, how shall poore… Thy dreadfull look, Able a heart of iron to appall, When thou shalt call For ev’ry man’s peculiar book?
O that I could a sin once see! We paint the devil foul, yet he Hath some good in him, all agree. Sin is flat opposite to th’ Almig… It wants the good of virtue, and o…
I threatened to observe the strict… Of my deare God with all my power… But I was told by one, ‘It could… Yet I might trust in God to be my… ‘Then will I trust,’ said I, ‘in…
Oh King of grief! (a title strang… To thee of all kings only due) Oh King of wounds! how shall I gr… Who in all grief preventest me? Shall I weep blood? why thou has…
How fresh, O Lord, how sweet and… Are thy returns! ev’n as the flowe… To which, besides their own demean… The late-past frosts tributes of p… Grief melts away
Blest be the God of love, Who gave me eyes, and light, and p… Both to be busy, and to play. But much more blest be God above, Who gave me sight alone,
Listen sweet Dove unto my song, And spread thy golden wings in me; Hatching my tender heart so long, Till it get wing, and fly away wit… Where is that fire which once desc…
A wreathed garland of deserved pra… Of praise deserved, unto thee I g… I give to thee, who knowest all my… My crooked winding wayes, wherein… Wherein I die, not live: for life…