Full Lyrics
Should there be some hapless wights
Pleasureworn to weariness,
And destitute of life's delights,
Let them sing a song or twain,
'Twill hearten them to cheeriness
And make them feel alive again.
Should men's lives be shorn of mirth,
Wreck'd by Fate's unkindliness,
And their days of little worth,
Let them seek in Music peace,
To wean them from their hopelessness,
And so from sorrow find release.
When our days are full of joy,
Brimming o'er with gladness and good,
And forgot is all annoy,
Singing still will tell the tale,
Singing still will fit the mood,
With delight that cannot fail.
Though rivals in song,
In song we unite:
Were our deeds e'er so wrong,
Our song must be right.
It uplifts us, unbinds us,
Wherever it finds us,
And helps us all day
To rejoice in our way,
And be strong.
