Change and permanence.
Still the mountains with us stay,
Still the winds across them roar,
Still is heard at dawn of day
Song of shepherd as of yore.
Still the countless daisies grow
On the hills, beneath the rocks,
But new swains, strange shepherds now
On our mountains feed their flocks.
Cymru’s customs day by day
Change with changing fortune’s wheel,
Friends of youth have passed away,
Strangers now their places fill;
After many a stormy day
Alun Mabon’s dead and gone,
But the old tongue still holds sway,
And the dear old airs live on.