• Old comb, Old comb!
    Brush fine the tangled thoughts
    Of the people who shall dwell in this house
    Just as you have brushed my hair fine
    When it was dirty with mud and grasses
    Which mad it heavy and black.

    May those stepping upon the chosen spot
    Take in thoughts free from anger,
    Their faces wearing no frown
    So that there shall always be harmony
    Like the smoothness of the deep river,
    Like the peace of a night in May

    Water,water in the earthen jar,
    Bring the coolness of the forest spring,
    The peace also of the old mountains,
    And the softness of the wind amihan,
    So that all who dwell under this roof
    Shall have thoughts of frequent and tranquil
    And receptive to reason

    Wash the tounges of all that are vile
    Cleanse the mind till it's immaculate
    That every speech here from dawn till evening
    May bring peace and contentment
    During this day and for years and onward.

    Burn brightly, light of enchantment,
    Bless this new house with your sacred flame,
    Whip back the shadows that surround the house
    So ugly thoughts will not crowd the mind
    Of men who shall shelter here.

    Make bright the faces of the dwellers,
    Make them see their errors, or reason,
    So that understanding shall abide in them,
    In their offspring and their offspring' s offspring