"ORA PRO NOBIS"
(After Eifion Win, 1867- . He lies as a poet between Elfed and the "New Bards")
| A sudden shower
lashes The darkening pane; The voice of the tempest Is lifted again. The centuried oaks To their very roots rock; And crying, for shelter Course cattle and flock. Our Father, forget not The nestless bird now; The snow is so near, And so bare is the bough! A great flood is flashing Athwart the wide lee; Like a storm-struck encampment, The clouds rend and flee; At the scourge of the storm My cot quakes with affright; Far better the hearth Than the pavement to-night! Our Father, forget not The homeless outcast; So thin is his raiment, So bitter Thy blast! The foam-flakes are whirling Below on the strand, As white as the pages I turn with my hand; And the curlew afar, From his storm-troubled lair, Laments with the cry [102] Of a soul in despair. Our Father, forget not Our mariners' state; Their ships are so slender, Thy seas are so great. |