 | Some Simple Songs and A Few More Ambitious
Attempts |  |
50
TELL ME, OH FATE.
Tell me, oh fate, is it decreed
That I leave but a blot
To stain the pages of the past?
Tell me, is this my lot?
That I leave but a blot
To stain the pages of the past?
Tell me, is this my lot?
Pray let a print of these sore feet
Rest on the sand of time;
Pray let the print of these sore hands
Upon the pages shine.
Rest on the sand of time;
Pray let the print of these sore hands
Upon the pages shine.
Years have I labored, toiled and fought,
But yet no prize I see;
Tell me, oh fate, if this is all
That I shall ever be?
But yet no prize I see;
Tell me, oh fate, if this is all
That I shall ever be?
| Some Simple Songs and A Few More Ambitious
Attempts | |