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.

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!

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.

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."

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.

Unlike my subject, I will make my song.
It shall be witty, and it shan't be long.

Unlike my subject, I will make my song.
It shall be witty, and it shan't be long.

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.

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.

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.