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my father-land by john jenkins - bart wolffe كلمات أغنية

land of the cymry! thou art still
in rock and valley, stream and hill
as wild and grand;
as thou hast been in days of yore
as thou hast ever been before
as thou shalt be for evermore
my father_land!

where are the bards, like thine, who’ve sung
the warrior’s praise? the harp hath strung
with mighty hand?
made chords of magic sound arise
that flung their echoes through the skies
and gained the fame that never dies
my father_land?

and where are warriors like thine own
who in the battle’s front have shown
so firm a stand?
who fought against the romans’ sk!ll
“the conquerors of the world,” until
they found thou wert “invincible,”
my father_land?

and where are hills like thine, or where
are vales so sweet, or scenes so fair
such praise command?
there towering snowdon, first in height
or cader idris, dreary sight
and lonely clwyd? oh! how bright
my father_land!
and where are warriors like thine own
who in the battle’s front have shown
so firm a stand?
who fought against the romans’ sk!ll
“the conquerors of the world,” until
they found thou wert “invincible,”
my father_land?

oh! how i love thee, though i mourn
that cold neglect should on thee turn
thy name to brand;
and oft the scalding tear will start
raining its dew_drops from the heart
to think how far we are apart
my father_land

and when my days are almost done
and, faltering on, i’ve nearly run
life’s dreary sand;
still, still my fainting breath shall be
bestowed upon thy memory
my soul shall wing its way to thee
my father_land!

- my father land by john jenkins

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