Trad - So cheerfully round, Bringing in the sheaves, We gets up in the morn
Steve Thomason's Harvest Home
HARVEST HOME
As a student I worked on the harvest in Berkshire. The memory of walking back through the fields as the dor beetles took flight inspired this song.
Chorus - Harvest Home, Harvest Home, Raise up your glasses, sing Harvest Home Harvest Home, Harvest Home, Raise up your glasses, sing Harvest Home
The sun it is setting, the sky's turning gold, And we weary labourers, both young and both old, The last of the harvest bring in from the field, It's another day's work and another year's yield.
I've worked on the harvest in sunshine and rain, From stripping the wild oats from out of the grain, To the last weary bale and the last weary sack, I've carried them homeward on my aching back
As we walk from the fields with the dust in our eyes, Our throats are like deserts all parched, cracked and dry, And the swallows fly low as the insects take wing, So its down to the alehouse to laugh drink and sing.
And in fields of stubble there's rabbit and hare, That'll make a fine banquet for us all to share For we've worked on the harvest the long summer through, And I must raise a tankard to bid you adieu.
And it's down to the alehouse for ale we must go, Where first barley serves you then lays you down low, So here's to the barley both servant and king, Come raise up your glasses, his praise we'll sing.