MY LIPS WOULD SING
By Edmund Leamy
My lips would sing a song for you, a soulful little song for you,
A plaintive little song for you, upon a summer's day;
But for the very life of me, the merry, merry life of me,
The laughter-loving life of me, I cannot but be gay.
For oh, the sun is shining, Dear, and who could be repining, Dear,
And who would be unhappy, Dear, when all the world is young?
So I will hum a melody, a mirthful little melody,
A joyous little melody that never yet was sung.
And you shall hear of Fairyland, of Kings and Queens of Fairyland,
Of men and maids of Fairyland, and Love shall be the theme,
And straight before your brimming eyes, a golden glint of Paradise
Shall steal, My Dear, to still your sighs, and give you back your dream.
And you will taste of happiness, a tiny bit of happiness,
A wistful bit of happiness, upon a summer's day;
And just a little smile from you, a sunny little smile from you,
A trembly little smile from you shall be a poet's pay!
