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We are tenting tonight on the old camp ground,
Give us a song to cheer.
We are tenting tonight on the old camp ground,
Give us a song to cheer.
Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,
That old and antique song we heard last night.
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Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,
That old and antique song we heard last night.
Methought it did relieve my passion much,
More than light airs and recollected terms
Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times.
Come, but one verse.
The song is ended / But the melody lingers on.
The song is ended / But the melody lingers on.
Verse sweetens toil, however rude the sound;
She feels no biting pang the while she sings,
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Verse sweetens toil, however rude the sound;
She feels no biting pang the while she sings,
Nor as she turns the giddy wheel around,
Revolves the sad vicissitudes of things.
In the ink of our sweat we will find it yet,
The song that is fit for men!
In the ink of our sweat we will find it yet,
The song that is fit for men!
A song of hate is a song of Hell;
Some there be who sing it well.
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A song of hate is a song of Hell;
Some there be who sing it well.
Let them sing it loud and long,
We lift our hearts in a loftier song:
We life our hearts to Heaven above,
Singing the glory of her we love,
England.
Unlike my subject, I will make my song.
It shall be witty, and it shan't be long.
Unlike my subject, I will make my song.
It shall be witty, and it shan't be long.
I cannot sing the old songs
Though well I know the tune,
Familiar as a cradle-song
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I cannot sing the old songs
Though well I know the tune,
Familiar as a cradle-song
With sleep-compelling croon;
Yet though I'm filled with music,
As choirs of summer birds,
"I cannot sing the old songs"--
I do not know the words.
I had wanted to say that my song was far too painful to sing.
I had wanted to say that my song was far too painful to sing.