Cheer the restless and repining,
Till lost in sight.





DAVID OF THE WHITE ROCK

_Dafydd y Garreg Wen_

(After Ceiriog to this Welsh Air)


"All my powers wither,
Death presses me hard;
Bear my harp hither!"
Sighed David the Bard.

"Thus while life lingers,
In one lofty strain
O, let my fond fingers
Awake it again.

"Last night an angel
Cried, 'David, come sound
Christ's dear Evangel
Death's valley around!'"

Wife and child harkened