I hear the birds come greet me in my morning They sing the songs of love in tongues of ages past. And all the while a vision is unfolding, The Moorhen pipes at me, "don't sleep the day away". And so with cautious steps I tread A measured path through vale and rook, And many signs you'd want to take me with you. And I go down to the Landing. Heron's Flood flows on storm-clothed As the harbour lights guide the wanderers home. I see the sun come greet me in his dawning, He holds the seed of life within his aged hands. And, in the sky, a vast procession streaming, Royal banners held aloft to mark the halcyon time. And so I walk in meadows below, Amongst the springs and weevil-gall, In myriad throngs the grass will take me with you. And I climb up to the Hawk's Throne, Cragshorn lies at Umbrian And the marram-slopes span the sapient sky. I feel the night come bidding me his greeting, He draws a glowing veil upon a sleepy world. And in the sky the stars roll through the heavens, Below, the new-hatched dove stares wondrously above. And so to Esma I am come To forge a passageway through time And all, too soon, you'd come to take me with you. And I strike north to the veld-plains, Dorn Ridge melts in snow-gold. As the Moorhen Pipes the pinkery moon. Birdsong, so sweetly, hear them calling you. Birdsong, so sweetly, hear them calling you.
I hear the birds come greet me in my morning They sing the songs of love in tongues of ages past. And all the while a vision is unfolding, The Moorhen pipes at me, "don't sleep the day away". And so with cautious steps I tread A measured path through vale and rook, And many signs you'd want to take me with you. And I go down to the Landing. Heron's Flood flows on storm-clothed As the harbour lights guide the wanderers home. I see the sun come greet me in his dawning, He holds the seed of life within his aged hands. And, in the sky, a vast procession streaming, Royal banners held aloft to mark the halcyon time. And so I walk in meadows below, Amongst the springs and weevil-gall, In myriad throngs the grass will take me with you. And I climb up to the Hawk's Throne, Cragshorn lies at Umbrian And the marram-slopes span the sapient sky. I feel the night come bidding me his greeting, He draws a glowing veil upon a sleepy world. And in the sky the stars roll through the heavens, Below, the new-hatched dove stares wondrously above. And so to Esma I am come To forge a passageway through time And all, too soon, you'd come to take me with you. And I strike north to the veld-plains, Dorn Ridge melts in snow-gold. As the Moorhen Pipes the pinkery moon. Birdsong, so sweetly, hear them calling you. Birdsong, so sweetly, hear them calling you.
