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C.D. Warner, et al., comp.  The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes.  1917.
 
A Song: ‘There is ever a song somewhere, my dear’
By James Whitcomb Riley (1849–1916)
 
THERE is ever a song somewhere, my dear,
  There is ever a something sings alway:
There’s the song of the lark when the skies are clear,
  And the song of the thrush when the skies are gray;
The sunshine showers across the grain,        5
  And the bluebird trills in the orchard tree;
And in and out, when the eaves drip rain,
  The swallows are twittering ceaselessly.
 
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear,
  Be the skies above or dark or fair;        10
There is ever a song that our hearts may hear—
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear—
  There is ever a song somewhere!
 
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear,
  In the midnight black or the midday blue:        15
The robin pipes when the sun is here,
  And the cricket chirrups the whole night through;
The buds may blow and the fruit may grow,
  And the autumn leaves drop crisp and sere:
But whether the sun or the rain or the snow,        20
  There is ever a song somewhere, my dear.
 
 
CONTENTS · GENERAL INDEX · SONGS & LYRICS · BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY
READER’S DIGEST · STUDENT’S COURSE · BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD
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