The sky is clear and the stars are bright,
The harvest moon is high;
And my heart is full of song tonight
As the last long hours drift by.

The lonely months and the aching fears
Are dreams of yesterday,
The clouds have gone and the future clears
As you wend your homeward way.

The cosy room with the firelight’s glow
Seems hushed until you come,
And my arms are aching to hold you so
When at last, dear heart.
When at last, dear heart you’re home.

By Donald Ian McGregor
1908 1985


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