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Parsifal Heard in Wales
These hundred hills, companioning my way,
Now beckon me to some serene domain.
Green meadows flow to tops of green again,
Caught in that tide the island fir-trees sway.
Mingling, the white and reddening flowers of May,
Fresh from the hushing fall of thunder-rain,
Make myriad posies in each winding lane;
Far up alluring vales soft fountains play.
O healing land, where noise and strivings cease!
A momentary respite here is found
For some Amfortas bleeding from his wound,
And on each rising knoll the Grail's own peace.
Pealing within my soul again I hear
The holy chant of blameless knights draw near.