The fields they are empty, nae workers today
Farmers and young men all have been going
To battles in lands that lie far away.
Yet one day we'll see them come by the hillside
Husbands and sons will return to their homes
Yet still my heart bleeds the price of their young pride
Their widows and sweethearts left sadly to mourn.
The call when it came found their menfolk aye ready
Each knew the reasons or that's what they thought
Then came the doubting but still they were steady
Slow dying in cold clay a'cursing their lot.
Yet one day we'll see them, there on the hillside
Though knowing in hearts they are but a gleam
The grief in the long glen, the gloom at the fireside
Will pass like a Spring breeze that never has been.
Contributed by Bernart Bartleby - 2016/3/17 - 11:21
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