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.

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.

At every close she made, th' attending throng
Replied, and bore the burden of the song:
So read more

At every close she made, th' attending throng
Replied, and bore the burden of the song:
So just, so small, yet in so sweet a note,
It seemed the music melted in the throat.

God sent his Singers upon earth
With songs of sadness and of mirth,
That they might touch read more

God sent his Singers upon earth
With songs of sadness and of mirth,
That they might touch the hearts of men,
And bring them back to heaven again.

But would you sing, and rival Orpheus' strain.
The wond'ring forests soon should dance again;
The moving read more

But would you sing, and rival Orpheus' strain.
The wond'ring forests soon should dance again;
The moving mountains hear the powerful call.
And headlong streams hand listening in their fall!

Come, sing now, sing; for I know you sing well;
I see you have a singing face.

Come, sing now, sing; for I know you sing well;
I see you have a singing face.

I see you have a singing face--a heavy, dull, sonata face.

I see you have a singing face--a heavy, dull, sonata face.

Olympian bards who sung
Divine ideas below,
Which always find us young
And always read more

Olympian bards who sung
Divine ideas below,
Which always find us young
And always keep us so.

When I but hear her sing, I fare
Like one that raises, holds his ear
To some read more

When I but hear her sing, I fare
Like one that raises, holds his ear
To some bright star in the supremest Round;
Through which, besides the light that's seen
There may be heard, from Heaven within,
The rests of Anthems, that the Angels sound.