O Carril, raise again thy voice! let me hear the song of Selma,
which was sung in my halls read more

O Carril, raise again thy voice! let me hear the song of Selma,
which was sung in my halls of joy, when Fingal, king of shields,
was there, and glowed at the deeds of his fathers.

His tongue is now a stringless instrument;
Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent.

His tongue is now a stringless instrument;
Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent.

You know you haven't got a singing face.

You know you haven't got a singing face.

She hath made me four and twenty nosegays for the
shearers--three-man songmen all, and very good ones; but they read more

She hath made me four and twenty nosegays for the
shearers--three-man songmen all, and very good ones; but they are
most of them means and bases, but one puritan amongst them, and
he sings psalms to hornpipes.

Sing again, with your dear voice revealing
A tone
Of some world far from ours,
read more

Sing again, with your dear voice revealing
A tone
Of some world far from ours,
Where music and moonlight and feeling
Are one.

Three merry boys, and three merry boys,
And three merry boys are we,
As ever did sing read more

Three merry boys, and three merry boys,
And three merry boys are we,
As ever did sing in a hempen string
Under the gallow-tree.

Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul
And lap it in Elysium.

Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul
And lap it in Elysium.

Every night he comes
With musics of all sorts, and songs composed
To her unworthiness. It nothing read more

Every night he comes
With musics of all sorts, and songs composed
To her unworthiness. It nothing steads us
To chide him from our eaves, for he persists
As if his life lay on't.

Nay, now you are too flat,
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant.

Nay, now you are too flat,
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant.