Circle of Stones

Words and Music by Cathal SilAlmhain

I've traveled the known kingdoms, seen wheatfields of gold, Seen mountains that stretch to the sky Seen valleys so fruitful they touch paradise But my home's most fair to my eye. Where the wind is blowing through the trees And a silent creek there humbly, gently flows, And two hills are clad warmly in garments of green And crowned in a circle of stones. I've coffers of copper, and silver, and gold And rubies, and all precious stones. But though the wealth of a kingdom may tempt other hearts It can't take the place of my home. Where the rainclouds drop waters more precious than pearls And the pine trees like emeralds have shown. And the hills there to sleep in are softer than silk And crowned in a circle of stones. Now my king may yet call me to a distant land for war, and it may be my fate there to die. Yet if I be remembered, go not to my grave-- view this land to remember me by. Where our memories are woven like vines through the trees Where our thoughts stray, wherever we roam, 'Til we come again to those two hills where our dream is free and crowned in a circle of stones. So come again, here, in ten years, or fifteen, or more and remember the faces of old-- Their valor undampened, though they have passed on It's their memory that makes this land our home. Where our memories are woven like vines through the trees Where our thoughts stray wherever we roam Until we come again to those two hills where our dream is free and crowned in a circle of stones. Until we come again to those two hills where our dream is free and crowned in a circle of stones.