By Robin Williamson Robin Williamson: Guitar, indian flute, oboe, piano, cello and vocal. I see your faces Blown through the horned clouds In the silent cities They call me so loud Come through the fire Come through the foam Come at the world's night Call the herds home Dearest child dearest child Most High Please don't let our fancy die Till all the grapes are gathered from the vine When you come Will you sound the harp Give to the blind Cat's eyes in the dark O will we know you for what you are You who have come so far Sweetest fair sweetest fair Most High Don't let them cut that ladder before its time For all the grapes to be gathered from the vine He comes again She comes again Through the mist of time Through the mist of rain No more words my heart brims over In the sea of circustance Rows for the rocky shore We who have sworn By the dead and the unborn Wheels within wheels O Most High.