There's a blossom that blows, that scoffs at the snows
And its faces (we trashed) the rage of the blast
It sweetens the sod, no slave ever trod
Six mountains of prayer there altered to God

CHORUS: The flower of the free, the heather, the heather
The Britons and Scots and Irish together
The Manx and the Welsh and Cornish forever
Six nations are we, proud Celtic and free

A blossom as red as the life's blood we shed
And for liberty's cause against alien laws
When (phonetic) Lockeil and O'Neil (tandel and rusteil)
For Alba and Erin and Cambria's wheel.

Let the Saxon and Dane bear the rule o'er the plane
And the hem of God's robe is their scepter and globe
And the lord of all light, revered in his height
For heaven and earth blows up in his sight.

HTML line breaks added. --JoeClone, 16-Jul-02.

SONG OF THE CELTS

There's a [Am] blossom that blows, that scoffs at the snows,
And it [G] faces root-fast the rage of the blast.
It [Am] sweetens the sod no slave ever trod
Since the mountains [C] upreared their [G] altars to [Am] God.

CHORUS: The flower of the free, the heather, the heather,
The Bretons and Scots and Irish together,
The Manx and the Welsh and Cornish forever,
Six nations are we, all Celtic and free.

Our blossom is red as the life's blood we shed
For Liberty's cause against alien laws
When Lochiel and O'Neill and Llewellyn drew steel
For Alba's and Erin's and Cambria's weal. CHO.

Let the Saxon and Dane bear the rule o'er the plain.
On the hem of God's robe is our scepter and globe,
For the Lord of all light revealed in his height,
For heaven and earth rose up in his sight. CHO.