The Har­vest

The Oban Times - - Leisure -

Will the har­vest of the home­land come again And the chil­dren of the grain re­turn as men Will our cho­rus still be strong, when we all are dead and gone And our voices proudly echo in the glen


We will re­turn our flame will burn again The earth will heal and torn fields will mend Re­born the land, we’ll never stand alone The guid­ing stars will bring the har­vest home From the cities and the towns we will re­turn And from the coun­tries where our fore­bears had to run We will gather on ground, where the bonds of kin are found And the pas­sions for our home­land brightly burn We are but ghosts in time be­tween the mov­ing realm And to break the spell we all must hold the helm For our course on com­pass-rose is bear­ing now for rocky shore But our faith and raw be­lief will over­whelm From the faint­ness of the fad­ing lu­nar bow From ashes now the Gael again will grow On the cy­cle of the sun our day again will come And our shack­les melt away like fallen snow The power of our dream again will glow Of the promised land of plenty where we go We’ll hear the call­ing tune sound be­low the har­vest moon And res­ur­rec­tion of a peo­ple we will know

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