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

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.

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.

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."

I learned very early in life that: "Without a song, the day would never end; without a friend, a man read more

I learned very early in life that: "Without a song, the day would never end; without a friend, a man ain't got a friend; without a song, the road would never bend- without a song" So I keep singing a song.

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.

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.

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.

Songs consecrate to truth and liberty.

Songs consecrate to truth and liberty.