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Published: 2020-03-25 10:19:46 +0000 UTC; Views: 52; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 0
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Thy innocent, cheerful, eve's dance on the green,
Now rarely delights—but a barbarous scene
Of jumping fanatics, whose dolorous yell
Remind of the fabled vile orgies of hell;
The frantic enthusiast's rant is preferred
To the minstrel's sweet song once gratefully heard,
That enamoured the youth of the hero's renown,
Or divested the maid of the vestal's cold frown—
Vernacular melodies! tending to move
The soul to th' enchantment of innocent love—
Oh sinless delights! that the saints of these times
Brand with the false appellation of crimes;
Sour bigots detested! whose ignorant rage
Recalls the dark gloom of a rude iron age!
From: Welsh Minstrelsy: Containing the Land Beneath the Sea, or Cantrev Y Gwaelod, a Poem in Three Cantos; With Various Other Poems, by Thomas Jeffery Llewelyn Prichard. Published 1825.
Pretty strong words..