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The Wind that Shakes the Barley

 There's music in my heart all day,
I hear it late and early,
It comes from fields are far away,
The wind that shakes the barley.
Above the uplands drenched with dew The sky hangs soft and pearly, An emerald world is listening to The wind that shakes the barley.
Above the bluest mountain crest The lark is singing rarely, It rocks the singer into rest, The wind that shakes the barley.
Oh, still through summers and through springs It calls me late and early.
Come home, come home, come home, it sings, The wind that shakes the barley.

by Katharine Tynan
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