The Gathering of Clans de Aire
Aire we go mate, to auld time sake
No tears due our eyes.
We lived by fate, gazeing the gate
We enter with all seeing eye.
Our souls acknowledge, the long journey home,
We know it holds tears, for so many years,
We’ve come to march for our Drum.
With head held high, we sing to the sky
We welcome all souls to the Dun.
Wear your best laddie, keep writing your pages,
For your fathers are watching you dear
They sing graceful praises, to the rock of the ages,
Giving you strength not to fear.
Stand upright good leaders, and carry your honor,
The same as all those be afore!
Give sight to ye lessons, and count all your blessins,
For this, could happen no more.
The most honorable place, in all Scottish space,
Could be that of Holyrood in the day.
There’s something much more, to Eden before,
You, or I, could never betray.
Breathe in the Aire! Oh my dear fair,
Forget not those who took your place.
Be not afraid, of the parade,
Or the men, with something to chase.
Rise like the phoenix, from the ashes between us,
Go singing your songs, and playing the pipes erased.
Wear your tartan and garland, take call to the far land,
And lets all sing Amazing Grace!
©
Karen Moore McKenzie “Clan Muir”
3/2/09
http://clannmuironline.ning.com
