Let The Slave Lyrics - Van Morrison

Let the slave grinding at the mill run out into the field 

Let him look up into the heavens and laugh in the bnght air 

Let the inchained soul, shut up in darkness and in sighing 

Whose face has never seen a smile in thirty weary Years 

Rose and look out; his chains are loose, his dungeon doors are open; 

And let his wife and children return from the oppressor's scourge 

They look behind at every step and believe it is a dream 

Singing: The sun has left his blackness and has found a fresher morning 

And the fair Moon rejoices in the clear and cloudless night 

For empire is no more and now the Lion and Wolf shall cease 

For everything that lives is holy 

For everything that lives is holy 

For everything that lives is holy 

For everything that lixes is holy 

Related 

26 Best Breakup Songs Of All Time 

Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody video hits 1 billion views on YouTube 

NEW SONG: Blink-182 - 'Happy Days' Lyrics 

What is the price of Experience? Do men buy it for a song? 

Or wisdom for a dance in the street? No, it is bought with the price 

Of all that a man hath, his house, his wife, his children 

Wisdom is sold in the desolate market where none come to buy 

And in the wither'd field where the farmer plows for bread in vain 

It is an easy thing to triumph in the summer's sun 

And in the vintage and to sing on the waggon loaded with corn 

It is an easy thing to talk of patience to the afflicted 

To speak the laws of prudence to the homeless wanderer 

To listen to the hungry raven's cry in wintry season 

When the red blood is fill'd with wine and with the marrow of lambs 

It is an easy thing to laugh at wrathful elements 

To hear the dog howl at the wintry door, the ox in the slaughter house moan; 

To see a god on every wind and a blessing on every blast 

To hear sounds of love in the thunder storm that destroys our enemies' house; 

To rejoice in the blight that covers his field 

And the sickness that cuts off his children 

While our olive and vine sing and laugh round our door 

And our children bring fruits and flowers 

Then the groan and the dolor are quite forgotten 

And the slave grinding at the mill 

And the captive in chains and the poor in the prison 

And the soldier in the field 

When the shatter'd bone hath laid him groaning among the happier dead 

It is an easy thing to rejoice in the tents of prosperity: 

Thus could I sing and thus rejoice: but it is not so with me