Chorus:
Come sing a song of Harvesthome
The god is dead — hurray!
Come sing of old John Barleycorn
Who'll live again — some day!
Oh we'll brew some ale and bake some bread,
Lay down some cider too.
Make certain every soul be fed
Before the day is through.
Come sing a song of Harvesthome
The god is dead — hurray!
Come sing of old John Barleycorn
Who'll live again — some day!
The sun was born last yuletide eve;
Full grown by Lady Day.
Became the goddess' faithful reeve
At Beltane's fire in May.
Come sing a song of Harvesthome
The god is dead — hurray!
Come sing of old John Barleycorn
Who'll live again — some day!
The god became the tiny seed
We buried in the ground,
And grew so tall a plant indeed
With barley thick around.
Come sing a song of Harvesthome
The god is dead — hurray!
Come sing of old John Barleycorn
Who'll live again — some day!
The scythe so sharp has cut him down —
Has brought him to his knee
But the gift he bought us with his death
Will feed this family.
Come sing a song of Harvesthome
The god is dead — hurray!
Come sing of old John Barleycorn
Who'll live again — some day!
So break some bread and lift your cup
To Old John Barleycorn.
At bounteous tables let us sup
And sing until the morn.
Come sing a song of Harvesthome
The god is dead — hurray!
Come sing of old John Barleycorn
Who'll live again — some day!
For we some day must face the blade,
Fall silent in the snow.
But like the god we'll never fade —
We rise again, we know!
Come sing a song of Harvesthome
The god is dead — hurray!
Come sing of old John Barleycorn
Who'll live again — some day!
The Lady guides us through the night,
Through Samhain's misty gleam,
And brings us back into the light
From out a pleasant dream.
Come sing a song of Harvesthome
The god is dead — hurray!
Come sing of old John Barleycorn
Who'll live again — some day!
So toast the Lady and the Lord
And hold your glasses high.
And sit before the groaning board,
And drink your flagons dry!
Come sing a song of Harvesthome
The god is dead — hurray!
Come sing of old John Barleycorn
Who'll live again — some day!
So sing a song of Harvesthome
The god is dead — hurray!
So sing of old John Barleycorn
Who'll live again — some day!