Full Lyrics
Come, tuneful friends, take heart of grace
To sing a stave with me,
With Treble, Alto, Tenor, Bass,
And fourpart harmony.
So let us sing of every thing
That minstrels wont to praise,
Of buoyant youth, and budding spring,
And radiant summer days.
Of the hunter’s horn, that’s heard in the morn,
Of forest, field, and flower,
Of warrior bold, and maid lovelorn,
And music’s magic power.
The shrillly Trebles pipe on high,
The mellow Altos moan,
The tender Tenors sob and sigh,
The good Bass holds his own.
Come, tuneful friends, take heart of grace
To sing a stave with me,
With Treble, Alto, Tenor, Bass,
And fourpart harmony.
