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

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.]

A song of hate is a song of Hell;
Some there be who sing it well.
Let read more

A song of hate is a song of Hell;
Some there be who sing it well.
Let them sing it loud and long,
We lift our hearts in a loftier song:
We life our hearts to Heaven above,
Singing the glory of her we love,
England.

Builders, raise the ceiling high,
Raise the dome into the sky,
Hear the wedding song!
read more

Builders, raise the ceiling high,
Raise the dome into the sky,
Hear the wedding song!
For the happy groom is near,
Tall as Mars, and statelier,
Hear the wedding song!

Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,
That old and antique song we heard last night.
read more

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.

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.

I cannot sing the old songs
Though well I know the tune,
Familiar as a cradle-song
read more

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.

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.