Gwenllian

Gwenllian, O my heart's delight.

You sleep unmov'd by wars command

and hold your small red-yellow apple in your hand.

Your baby cheeks, so rosy red and bright,

your heart so happy day and night.

Gwenllian, O my heart's delight.

Forget our world of woe,

O bless'd princess within your cradle,

Where you hold an apple

that is all your earthly care.

Your brothers battle bravely,

for your father's sword is at his thigh,

but you are sound asleep

and dreaming where you lie.

Gwenllian, O heart's delight.

The land shakes now with noise of Norman war.

O angels guard thy father's door!

To sleep so healthily content;

The Queens of highest line

would all forgo their thrones

for bed of such a babe so small.

Gwenllian, O my heart's delight.