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All this for a song.
All this for a song.
Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song, A medley of extemporanea; And love is a thing that can never read more
Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song, A medley of extemporanea; And love is a thing that can never go wrong; And I am Marie of Rumania
Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
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Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.
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!
Everything ends with songs.
[Fr., Tout finit par des chansons.]
Everything ends with songs.
[Fr., Tout finit par des chansons.]
The song on its mighty pinions
Took every living soul, and lifted it gently to heaven.
The song on its mighty pinions
Took every living soul, and lifted it gently to heaven.
And grant that when I face the grisly Thing,
My song may trumptet down the gray Perhaps
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And grant that when I face the grisly Thing,
My song may trumptet down the gray Perhaps
Let me be as a tune-swept fiddlestring
That feels the Master Melody--and snaps.
Songs consecrate to truth and liberty.
Songs consecrate to truth and liberty.
If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.
If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.
