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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."
Men, even when alone, lighten their labors by song, however rude
it may be.
[Lat., Etiam singulorum fatigatio read more
Men, even when alone, lighten their labors by song, however rude
it may be.
[Lat., Etiam singulorum fatigatio quamlibet se rudi modulatione
solatur.]
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.
The song is ended / But the melody lingers on.
The song is ended / But the melody lingers on.
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.
That song, for me, is about drugs and alcohol and loss and love. It's about being proud of who you read more
That song, for me, is about drugs and alcohol and loss and love. It's about being proud of who you are, being proud of your situation and just being stoked that things are always going to get better or always gonna get worse and that's such a great thing. Every day is a new surprise.
All this for a song.
All this for a 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.
I cannot sing the old songs
Though well I know the tune,
Familiar as a cradle-song
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I cannot sing the old songs
Though well I know the tune,
Familiar as a cradle-song
With sleep-compelling croon;
Yet though I'm filled with music,
As choirs of summer birds,
"I cannot sing the old songs"--
I do not know the words.