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The back of the winter is broken,
And light lingers long by the door;
And the seeds of the summer have spoken,
In gowans that bloom on the shore.
By night and day we'll sport and we'll play,
And delight as the dawn dances over the bay;
Sleep blows the breath of the morning away,
And we follow the heron home.
In darkness we cradled our sorrow,
And stoked all our fires with fear;
Now these bones that lie empty and hollow,
Are ready for gladness to cheer.
By night and day we'll sport and we'll play,
And delight as the dawn dances over the bay;
Sleep blows the breath of the morning away,
And we follow the heron home.
Long may you sing of the salmon,
And the snow-scented sounds of your home;
While the north wind delivers its sermon,
Of ice and salt water and stone.
By night and day we'll sport and we'll play,
And delight as the dawn dances over the bay;
Sleep blows the breath of the morning away,
And we follow the heron home.
By night and day we'll sport and we'll play,
And delight as the dawn dances over the bay;
Sleep blows the breath of the morning away,
And we follow the heron home.
And we follow the heron home.
