Set thy mind to work and in these hills words are wrought.
The anvil hammered rings with clarion call.
Music of the blood spilt freely flows
And creatures of the night are vibrant viewed.
From North to South the echo falls,
Amid the children born and bred,
Of coal and iron steeled in steam,
And shaped in stone and clay like iridescent slate.
Centuries; three have left their mark,
On character with fierce passion filled;
Breathes names of ancient tribes
Where far flung camp and settlement before the castle
mount were found.
George, Bevin, Bassey, Burton,
Thomas, Phillips, Pryce and Madoc;
Of fame equal to Ap Griffith or Llewellyn,
And in the regal presence plucked the heart string.
In what form is the tuckered sonnet cast?
The stage embodies the song of hills and vales, and
As clear as Milk Wood its wares displays,
A mere glimpse of majestic mystery.
Hallowéd are these stones that sing,
‘Praise be to this Almighty God;’
Who raised up on this altar sound,
Music of a Nation’s sense of Horizon profound.
Go unto this people and say,
‘Hearing ye shall hear, and seeing ye shall see.’
For the heart of this people,
See with their eyes, and hear with their ears,
And understand with their heart, and I should heal them.
Yr Actau 28:26-28
Dos at y bobl yma, a dywed,
‘Yn clywed y clywch, ac yn gweled y gwelwch,’
Canys calon y bobl hyn,
Weled a’u llygaid, a chlywed a’u clustiau,
A deall â’r galon, ac I mi eu hiachâu hwynt.
Will George © Nov. 29, 2004