A Celtic Psaltery by Alfred Perceval Graves
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page 2 of 205 (00%)
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PRIME MINISTER OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND
This Psaltery of Celtic Songs To you by bounden right belongs; For ere War's thunder round us broke, To your content its chord I woke, Where Cymru's Prince in fealty pure Knelt for his Sire's Investiture. Nor less these lays are yours but more, In memory of the Eisteddfod floor You flooded with a choral throng That poured God's praise a whole day long. But most, O Celtic Seer, to you This Song Wreath of our Race is due, Since high o'er hatred and division, You have scaled the Peak and seen the Vision Of Freedom, breaking into birth From out an agonising Earth. PREFACE I have called this volume of verse a Celtic Psaltery because it mainly consists of close and free translations from Irish, Scotch Gaelic, and |
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