| I still hear the ancient warcry
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| (Roma to Brittania)
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| I still hear the ancient battlecry
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| The great old European heroes, the proud old European names
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| Like snow now melted for sunlight, today their lustre gleams
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| Gone are the great old empires, the proud old names are low
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| That shed a glory over the ancient world, a thou sand years ago
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| But wandering the medieval cities beholding our ancient lands
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| Albion, Saxonia, land of Franks constructed by our ancestor’s
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| Hands
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| (from Erin to Caledonia)
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| I still hear the ancient warcry
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| (Ellada to Helvetia)
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| I still hear the ancient battlecry
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| (from Lusitania to Hispania)
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| I still hear the ancient warcry
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| (Mycenae to Macedonia)
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| I still hear the ancient battlecry
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| In the country of our fathers on the land and sea
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| Can you hear a million voices? |
| Thy forefathers summoning thee!
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| Summoning thee!
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| Many centuries ago, beyond the hazy space
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| In Brittany, Eire and Caledonia there dwelt a mighty race
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| Celts they were called, like their holy oaks, they had a giant
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| Grace
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| (fierce was the Byzantine empire
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| Spread over the Balkans, Asia, Minor and Greece
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| Combining eastern and western tradition
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| A gateway to the East)
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| Slavonian kingdoms, empires and tribes
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| Defending their ancient lands and rights
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| From invading hordes from the East
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| Thousands slaughtered (fair) men and beast
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| (from Byzantium to Phoenicia)
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| I still hear the ancient warcry
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| (Etruria to Cymru)
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| I still hear the ancient battlecry! |