The Children's Song
The world lies fair about us, and a friendly sky above;
Our lives are full of sunshine, our homes are full of love;
Few cares or sorrows sadden the beauty of our day;
We gather simple pleasures like daisies by the way.
Oh! sing with cheery voices,
Like robins on the tree;
For little lads and lasses
As blithe of heart should be.
The village is our fairyland: its good men are our kings;
And wandering through its by-ways our busy minds find wings.
The school-room is our garden, and we the flowers there,
And kind hands tend and water us that we may blossom fair.
Oh! dance in airy circles,
Like fairies on the lee;
For little lads and lasses
As light of foot should be.
There's the Shepherd of the sheepfold; the Father of the vines;
The Hermit of blue Walden; the Poet of the pines;
And a Friend who comes among us, with counsels wise and mild
With snow upon his forehead, yet at heart a very child.
Oh! smile as smiles the river,
Slow rippling to the sea;
For little lads and lasses
As full of peace should be.
There's not a cloud in heaven but drops its silent dew;
No violet in the meadow but blesses with its blue;
No happy child in Concord who may not do its part
To make the great world better by innocence of heart.
Oh! blossom in the sunshine
Beneath the village tree;
For little lads and lasses
Are the fairest flowers we see.
Our lives are full of sunshine, our homes are full of love;
Few cares or sorrows sadden the beauty of our day;
We gather simple pleasures like daisies by the way.
Oh! sing with cheery voices,
Like robins on the tree;
For little lads and lasses
As blithe of heart should be.
The village is our fairyland: its good men are our kings;
And wandering through its by-ways our busy minds find wings.
The school-room is our garden, and we the flowers there,
And kind hands tend and water us that we may blossom fair.
Oh! dance in airy circles,
Like fairies on the lee;
For little lads and lasses
As light of foot should be.
There's the Shepherd of the sheepfold; the Father of the vines;
The Hermit of blue Walden; the Poet of the pines;
And a Friend who comes among us, with counsels wise and mild
With snow upon his forehead, yet at heart a very child.
Oh! smile as smiles the river,
Slow rippling to the sea;
For little lads and lasses
As full of peace should be.
There's not a cloud in heaven but drops its silent dew;
No violet in the meadow but blesses with its blue;
No happy child in Concord who may not do its part
To make the great world better by innocence of heart.
Oh! blossom in the sunshine
Beneath the village tree;
For little lads and lasses
Are the fairest flowers we see.
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