| There’s no use in weeping
|
| Though we are condemned to part:
|
| There’s such a thing as keeping
|
| A remembrance in one’s heart:
|
| There’s such a thing as dwelling
|
| On the thought ourselves have nurs’d
|
| And with scorn and courage telling
|
| The world to do its worst
|
| We’ll not let its follies grieve us
|
| We’ll just take them as they come;
|
| And then every day will leave us
|
| A merry laugh for home
|
| When we’ve left each friend and brother
|
| When we’re parted wide and far
|
| We will think of one another
|
| As even better than we are
|
| Wide and far
|
| Every glorious sight above us
|
| Every pleasant sight beneath
|
| We’ll connect with those that love us
|
| Whom we truly love till death !
|
| We can burst the bonds which chain us
|
| Which cold human hands have wrought
|
| And where none shall dare restrain us
|
| We can meet again, in thought
|
| When we’ve left each friend and brother
|
| When we’re parted wide and far
|
| We will think of one another
|
| As even better than we are
|
| When we’ve left each friend and brother
|
| When we’re parted wide and far
|
| We will think of one another
|
| As even better than we are |