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Title: Welcome!
Author: J. C. Manning [
More Titles by Manning]
The following was written as a Prologue, to be read at the opening of the Wrexham National Eisteddfod, 1876. It was not successful in taking the offered prize, but as the adjudicator who made the award was pleased to say it was "above the average," I have thought its publication here will not be out of place.
Welcome! thrice welcome--one and all,
To this our Nation's Festival;
Be 't Peer or peasant; old or young:
Welcome! thrice welcome, friends among.
If Peer--no title that he bears--
No decoration that he wears--
Can the proud name of Bard excel,
Or pale the badge he loves so well.
If Peasant--he may here be taught
That none are poor who, rich in thought,
Possess in Mind's high utterings
A nobler heritage than kings.
If old--what once you were you'll see:
If young--what p'rhaps one day you'll be--
For youth yearns upward to the sage;
And childhood's joy delighteth age.
Come rich--come poor--come old and young,
And join our Feast of Art and Song.
What forms our banquet all shall know,
And hungry homeward none must go.
We boast not here of knife or platter;
Our feast is of the mind--not matter,
Along our festive board observe
No crystal fruit--no rare preserve:
No choice exotic here and there,
With wine cup sparkling everywhere:
No toothsome dish--no morsel sweet--
Such savoury things as people eat;
So if for these you yearn--refrain!
For these you'll look and long in vain.
Our Feast's composed of dainty dishes--
To suit far daintier tastes and wishes.
While for the splendour of our wine--
I've oftimes heard it called divine:
For who that drinks of Music's stream,
Or quaffs of Art's inspiring theme,
Shall say that both are things of earth--
That both are not of heavenly birth?
While gathered blossoms fade away,
The Poet's thoughts for ever stay--
E'en as the rose's perfumed breath
Survives the faded flow'ret's death.
No pleasure human hand can give
Is lasting--all things briefly live.
But sounds which flow from Minstrelsy
Vibrate through all eternity!
Then welcome! welcome! one and all,
To this, our Nation's Festival.
Come rich--come poor: come old and young
And join our Feast of Art and Song!
[The end]
J. C. Manning's poem: Welcome!
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