by Anne Hunter (1742 - 1821)

The Britons (Y Brython)
Language: English 
When on the mountain's lofty brow
Above the clouds in air I tread,
Or hear the torrent rush be-low,
Within the forest shade:
Thoughts of the past, and forms sublime,
Glide through the waste on viewless wings;
I hear a Bard of ancient time,
Sweep o'er his silver strings.

Soft flows his melancholy strain,
He sings of heroes, long since gone,
Who fell on the embattled plain;
With time their fame is flown.
But dear to Britons be the ground,
Where valour fought for glory's meed;
And sweet the plaintive notes shall sound
That mourn the mighty dead.


Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Researcher for this text: Ferdinando Albeggiani

This text was added to the website: 2011-09-19
Line count: 16
Word count: 98