Vermont Song

We gather on our porches at the dimming of the day
Rocking gently to the distant sound of tractors bailing hay
We reflect upon our blessings – We are grateful to be here
This is the simple quiet living we hold dear.

We are born to your beauty by the cry of the loon
We give thanks for your harvest by the light of the moon
Of the tapestry that blankets our spirit and captures our hearts

Let us sing to our Vermont.

Your whitewashed steeples, fading barns, and old wagon roads
Take us to a sleepy little town of long ago
Where folks make maple sugar and angels in the snow
Where what you do matters more than what you know.

We are born to your beauty by the cry of the loon
We give thanks for your harvest by the light of the moon
Of the tapestry that blankets our spirit and captures our hearts
Let us sing to our Vermont.

As silhouettes of history are woven in time
Trees stand guard, roots deep and sure, where the rails of freedom lie
And Patriots are honored with their names carved in stone
And the flight of the Falcon heralds the dawn.

We are born to your beauty by the cry of the loon
We give thanks for your harvest by the light of the moon
Of the tapestry that blankets our spirit and captures our hearts
Let us sing to our Vermont.