"O FRIEND, BEGIN A LOFTIER SONG."
O FRIEND, begin a loftier song.
Confusion falls upon your mind;
A sense of evil makes you blind;
"What use," you say, "is it to be?
I know not God, God knows not me!"
Confusion falls upon your mind;
A sense of evil makes you blind;
"What use," you say, "is it to be?
I know not God, God knows not me!"
O friend, begin a loftier song.
In other minds you place no trust:
You tread your laurels in the dust:
You see no Future, Hope has fled,
Youth had its dreams, but Youth is dead.
In other minds you place no trust:
You tread your laurels in the dust:
You see no Future, Hope has fled,
Youth had its dreams, but Youth is dead.
O friend, begin a loftier song.
"The sweet ideal of past years
Speaks in my songs, they are my tears:
"The sweet ideal of past years
Speaks in my songs, they are my tears:
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