The Goldfinch (1817)/The Welsh Harper

by Anonymous

The Welsh Harper.

Over the sunny hills I stray,
Tuning many a rustic lay,
And sometimes in the shadowy vales,
I sing of love and battle tales;
Merrily thus I spend my life,
Tho' poor, my breast is free from strife;
The blythe old Harper call'd am I,
In the Welch vales, 'mid mountains high.
In the Welch vales 'mid mountains high.

Sometimes before a castle gate,
In song a battle I relate;
Or how a lord, in shepherd's guise,
Sought favour in a virgin's eyes.
With rich and poor a welcome guest,
No cares intrude upon my breast;
The blythe old Harper call'd am I,
In the Welch vales, 'mid mountains high.
In the Welch vales, 'mid mountains high.

Now sol illumes the western sky,
And evening zephyrs softly sigh,
Oft times on village green I play,
While round me dance the rustic gay:
And oft, when veil'd by sable night,
The wond'ring shepherds I delight;
The blythe old Harper call'd am I,
In the Welch vales, 'mid mountains high,
In the Welch vales, 'mid mountains high.

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