You May Also Like / View all maxioms
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!
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
Listen to that song, and learn it!
Half my kingdom would I give,
As I live,
read more
Listen to that song, and learn it!
Half my kingdom would I give,
As I live,
If by such songs you would earn it.
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 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.