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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=428990" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Ancient Speech</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=428990" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A Gaelic bard they praise who in fourteen adjectives<br>Named the one indivisible soul of his glen;<br>For what are the bens and the glens but manifold qualities,<br>Immeasurable complexities of soul?<br>What are these isles but a song sung by island voices?<br>The herdsman sings ancestral memories<br>And the song makes the singer wise,<br>But only while he sings<br>Songs that were old when the old themselves were young,<br>Songs of these hills only, and of no isles but these.<br>For other hills and isles this language has no words.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=428990" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The mountains are like manna, for one day given,<br>To each his own:<br>Strangers have crossed the sound, but not the sound of the dark oarsmen<br>Or the golden-haired sons of kings,<br>Strangers whose thought is not formed to the cadence of waves,<br>Rhythm of the sickle, oar and milking pail,<br>Whose words make loved things strange and small,<br>Emptied of all that made them heart-felt or bright.<br>Our words keep no faith with the soul of the world.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Kathleen+Jessie+Raine">Kathleen Jessie Raine</a></strong></div>