* * * * *
He who darts the winged light’ning,
Walks upon the foaming wave;
Send forth arrows of conviction,
Here exert thy power to save;
Burst the bars of Satan’s prison,
Snatch the firebrand from the flame,
Fill the doubting with assurance,
Teach the dumb to sing thy name.
* * * * *
The clouds, O Lord, do scatter,
Between me and thy face;
Reveal to me the glory
Of thy redeeming grace;
Speak thou in words of mercy,
While in distress I call;
And let me taste forgiveness,
Through Christ, my all-in-all.
THE FARMER’S PRAYER.
By Rev. Rees Prichard, M.A.
Translated by the Rev. William Evans.
[Any collection of Welsh poetry that does not contain a portion of the poems of the “Good Vicar Prichard of Llandovery” would be incomplete. This excellent man was born at Llandovery, in Carmarthenshire, in the year 1579, and died there in 1644. After a collegiate course in Oxford he was inducted to the Vicarage of his native parish, and received successively afterwards the appointments of Prebendary, and Chancellor of St. David’s. He composed a multitude of religious poems and pious carols, which were universally popular among his contemporaries and had great influence upon the Welsh of after-times. They were collected and published after his death under the title of “Canwyll y Cymry,” or “The Candle of the Welsh,” of which about twenty editions have appeared. The “Welshman’s Caudle” has for the last two hundred and fifty years found a place beside the Holy Bible in the bookshelf of almost every native of the Principality, and has been consecrated by the nation. It consists of pious advice and religious exhortation suited to all conditions and circumstances of life. An English translation of the poems was published by Messrs. Longman & Co., in 1815.]
O Thou! by whom the universe was made,
Mankind’s support, and never failing aid,
Who bid’st the earth her various products bear,
Who waterest the soft’ned soil with rain,
Who givest vegetation to the grain,
Unto a peasant’s ardent pray’r give ear!
I now intend, with care, my land to dress,
And in its fertile womb to sow my grain;
Which, if, O God! thou deignest not to bless,
I never shall receive, or see again.