II.
With a little of Love, Dear, and something of Song,
There's no hour that is heavy, no day that is long;
And the soldier of hope scales the mountains that meet,
Till they lay all their trophies and gifts at his feet.
With a little of Love, Dear, and something of Song,
There's no hour that is heavy, no day that is long;
And the soldier of hope scales the mountains that meet,
Till they lay all their trophies and gifts at his feet.