John J Butler - The Welsh
The Welsh had many gods, in Druidic Times,
Then Conquering Romans came, with a new Paradigm;
They brought their gods, but it was the Son whose Survived,
With the Papists supreme, many spirits Revived.
Then came the Reformers, with its Power to destroy,
By Murder and Bloodshed, feeding well the soil;
The Welsh, abandoned, priests martyred whilst did sing.
Their churches and abbeys ruined, their wealth to the king.
Then came the Chapels spreading fast and bright,
Rising like Beacon, like Beacons of Lights;
And their singing, heart rendering the souls of all,
Harmonious voices, their singing, melodious the Call.
Such is the Pride, of this Ancient Welsh Race,
Surviving their plight, they lift high now their face,
And the Nation became known, as the Land of Song,
Their Fame far 'n' wide, to all parts gone.
Wales, the Ancient Land, that bred Saints so fine,
Gave birth to the Bards since earliest times,
But now many Chapels, empty; no voices or song,
Where are the People, where have the Young gone?
Though their Faith may have faded, the Spirit lives on,
To Arms Park now gather, they gather as One,
They sing Sacred Hymns, and as always with Pride,
Like no Nation on earth - Hear now how they Cry!
Hark! Hear you the Song, the Nightingale sang?
Hear you the Voice of the Prisoner of Iran?
He Suffered forty years, just for me and for you,
For He is the Return, His Revelation most New.
Slowly but surely, see how it's takes hold,
Spreading through Wales, as Baha'is Speak out bold,
The Revival it's here, it has come to stay,
For as Christ had Promised, this is Baha'u'llah's Great Day.
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