From The Theosophical Path, Vol. 4 No. 3, edited by Katherine Tingley (Point Loma, Calif.: New Century Corp., March 1913), page 177:


DAVID OF THE WHITE STONE: A Welsh Legend
Welsh Air: Dafydd y Garreg Wen
by Kenneth Morris

1. "Bring you," said David, "my harp to my breast,
Ere sunset's crimson rose wane from the west
Lilac and ash-gray, and cold on heaven's rim,
And my soul speed forth where eve hath grown dim.

2. "Bring the proud harp to my breast, till I wake
One more wild tune for these proud mountains' sake;
One more Welsh tune, ere my life-thread be riven;
Dear knows what tunes they'll be raising in heaven."

3. Feebly his fingers o'er-wandered the strings;
"Hush!" they said, "now while his bard's soul takes wings."
Ah, had they known, 'twas his ears were a-strain
For a wild, wandering music blown far o'er the main.

4. "Primrose and foxglove light strewn o'er the sea;
Wild tune, come floating, come wandering to me.
Dear, Druid music adrift from the west,
You the Souls sing in the Isles of the Blest."

5. Ah, now the old fingers sweep o'er the strings!
Ah, now the old Welsh harp triumphing rings!
David hath played, ere he died, the wild strain,
Heaven's tune, heaven's Welsh tune, the old Garreg Wen.