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Our journey took us through the dark, a long and winding road;
our caravan was weary, and right heavy was our load;
we saw the light, we found the gate, we made our way within;
no words can tell our thankfulness, when greeted by our kin:
Welcome home.

Welcome home from near and far, welcome home whoe'er you are,
welcome home again, wherever you may roam,
from north and south, east and west, to the place we love the best,
where the heart may find its rest: welcome home.

We stumbled and we staggered, for we had travelled long;
our eyelids they were heavy, and our bodies far from strong.
But through the gate we entered, and from every friendly face
came words that gave us strength again, like herbs of healing grace:
Welcome home.


Each time I walk those lands again, returned on pilgrim feet,
I almost kneel and kiss the ground, the grass so green and sweet;
the sky so fair, the stars so bright, the fires and friendships dear,
and sweet as any song to me, the words I love to hear:
Welcome home.


So all you joyful pilgrims, who once a year are found
upon the shores of Cooper's Lake, that well-beloved ground,
pass on the words that welcome you, in early times or late,
and greet the weary traveller who enters through the gate:
Welcome home.

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