Everything ends with songs.
[Fr., Tout finit par des chansons.]

Everything ends with songs.
[Fr., Tout finit par des chansons.]

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.

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.

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!

Song forbids victorious deeds to die.

Song forbids victorious deeds to die.

And heaven had wanted one immortal song.

And heaven had wanted one immortal song.

I can not sing the old songs now!
It is not that I deem them low,
'Tis read more

I can not sing the old songs now!
It is not that I deem them low,
'Tis that I can't remember how
They go.

She makes her hand hard with labour, and her heart soft with
pity: and when winter evenings fall early read more

She makes her hand hard with labour, and her heart soft with
pity: and when winter evenings fall early (sitting at her merry
wheel), she sings a defiance to the giddy wheel of
fortune . . . and fears no manner of ill because she means none.

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.