War song of the men of Glamorgan (Triban...
Red glows the forge in Striguil's bounds,
And hammers' din, and anvil sounds,
And armourers, with iron toil,
Barb many a steed for battle's broil.
Foul fall the hand which bends the steel
Around the courser's thund'ring heel,
That e'er shall dint a sable wound
On fair Glamorgan's velvet ground!
Old Chepstow's brides may curse the toil
That arm'd stout Clare for Cambrian broil;
Their orphans long the art may rue,
For Neville's war horse forg'd the shoe.
No more the stamp of armed steed
Shall dint Glamorgan's velvet mead;
Nor trace be there, in early spring,
Save of the fairies' emerald ring.
Submitted by Ferdinando Albeggiani
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text),
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Text added to the website: 2011-09-19.
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