Jenny BrownRhiannon's Yoke
A collar the Great Queen did wear,
On her back, great burdens did bear:
Could Earth provide no better crown
For our Queen, as in grief She drowned?
Most Divine Queen, before Your throne
Gods, Mortals, and Fair Folk bend low.
Yet this was the crown given You,
And with stalwart heart, You bore it true.
Should Earth, Rhiannon, crown me so,
With the yoke of shame on sorrow;
Lead me, as You, to do the same,
To maintain hope in Your fair name.
‘Tis You upon sovereignty’s seat,
The crowns of kings strewn at Your feet.
Terrible power do You wield,
Yet gracious hands carry Your shield.
Garlands of roses should adorn
The neck of One so wrongly scorned.
Diadems of diamonds and gold
Could not befit a Queen so bold.
Your shining radiance above
Showers the strand in lustrous love,
And I will take Your open hand
To walk Your sacred, blessed land.
Loosely Adapted from: "I. Earth’s Crown," pp. 1-2 in Morris, Joseph (1854). Llef Tyrfa yn y Mynyddoedd: Favourite Welsh Hymns Translated into English. W. Spurrell. Carmarthen.