by Edvard Grieg
arr. by Howard D. McKinneyCome and let our swelling song
Mount like the whirling wind,
As it meets our singing throng,
So blithe of heart and mind.
Care and sorrow now begone,
Brothers in song, sing on!
Brothers, sing on, sing on!
Youth is a wandering troubadour,
Sailing the singing breeze,
Wooing a maid on a distant shore,
Over the tossing seas;
Steering by the stars above,
His vessel a song of love.
Brothers, sing on, sing on!
Errant minstrels, thus we greet
you,
List to our voices strong,
With glad and open hearts we meet you
in our festival of song.
Care and sorrow now begone,
Brothers in song, sing on!
Brothers, sing on, sing on!
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