There is ever a song somewhere, my dear—
There is ever a song somewhere!
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear,
In the mid-night black, or the mid-day blue;
The robin pipes when the sun is here,
And the cricket chirps the whole night through.
The buds may blow, and the fruit may grow,
And the autumn leaves drop crisp and sear;
But whether the sun, or the rain, or the snow,
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear.