The Shepherd of Cwmdyli.
Cloke of mist hath passed away,
Sweetheart mine,
Which has veiled the heights all day,
Sweetheart mine,
See, the sun shines clear and bright,
Gilding all the hills with light,
To the arbour let us go,
Closely clinging, sweetheart mine.
Listen! from the rocks on high,
Sweetheart mine,
Echo mocks the cuckoo’s cry,
Sweetheart mine,
From each hillock low the steers,
Bleat of lambs falls on our ears,
In the bushes, sweet and low,
Birds are singing, sweetheart mine.
But Cwmdyli soon will be,
Sweetheart mine,
Lone and drear, bereft of thee,
Sweetheart mine,
I shall hear thy voice no more,
Never see thee cross the moor,
With thy pail at morn or eve
Tripping gaily, sweetheart mine.
’Mid the city’s din be true,
Sweetheart mine.
When new lovers come to woo,
Sweetheart mine,
Oh, remember one who’ll be,
Ever filled with thoughts of thee.
In Cwmdyli lone I’ll grieve
For thee daily, sweetheart mine.
Why should we Weep?
Why should we weep for those we love,
Who in the faith of Christ have died?
Set free from bonds of sin and pain,
They are living still—the other side.
From wave to wave they once were tossed
On this world’s sea, by storm and tide:
Within the haven calm and still
They are resting now—the other side.
When gloomy Jordan roared and swelled,
The great High Priest was there to guide,
And safe above the stormy waves
He bore them—to the other side.
What though their bodies in the earth
We laid to wait the Judgment-tide?
Themselves are fled—they are not there
But living still—the other side.