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Martyn Joseph
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Land of Evermore
These are the vales where the fire sustained us
Where our praises burnt us pure
Where the Brecon Beacons looked down like preachers
On my land of Evermore
Where a kiln of merchants bleached our spirits
And left widows to endure
The headstones and lost hallelujahs
In the land of evermore
In its resurrection robes of honour
I watched the Red Kite soar
With promise of our exaltation
In this land of evermore
Take us back to those hills of favour
To the pastures of before
Where the hope and harp will not be silenced
In their land of evermore
There in the soul of our fair country
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On Blaenavon's sea-less shore
Where the foundry gave us coins and trinkets
Inside our narrow door
Our Sunday boots wore the gloss of glory
So how could we be poor?
Rebecca's hosts are sombre pleading here
In their land of Evermore
In its resurrection robes of honour
I watch the Red Kite soar
With promise of our exaltation
In this land of evermore
Take us back to those hills of favour
Where the hope and the harp will not be silenced
In their land of evermore
In the land of evermore
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