Poems | ||
SONG.
Come sing; come sing;For what is the thing
That gladdens the heart like song?
Leave sighs and sorrow
And tears for the morrow,
And may they be strangers long!
True, some may say,
Wine makes us as gay,
But, trust me, friends, they're wrong;
To nothing has Earth,
I swear, given birth
That gladdens the heart like song.
Poems | ||