IF the song I have to sing Is a dreary, gloomy thing, I would rather silent be; If I cannot sing of cheer, I will never let you hear Any song of dole from me. Let no dirge escape my lips, Rather song that gayly trips Than a slow and mournful tone; Let me sing a song of pleasure, In a romping sort of measure, But my woe I`ll bear alone.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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