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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.
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.
Listen to that song, and learn it!
Half my kingdom would I give,
As I live,
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Listen to that song, and learn it!
Half my kingdom would I give,
As I live,
If by such songs you would earn it.
He play'd an ancient ditty long since mute,
In Provence call'd, "La belle dame sans merci."
He play'd an ancient ditty long since mute,
In Provence call'd, "La belle dame sans merci."
There are more love songs than anything else. If songs could make you do something we'd all love one another.
There are more love songs than anything else. If songs could make you do something we'd all love one another.
And heaven had wanted one immortal song.
And heaven had wanted one immortal song.
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.
All this for a song.
All this for a song.
California sunlight - sweet Calcutta rain - Honolulu starbright - the song remains the same.
California sunlight - sweet Calcutta rain - Honolulu starbright - the song remains the same.