1 Shall we oppress'd with sadness,
Strike melancholy's string?
O no, we'll tune to gladness,
And merrily, merrily sing,--We'll sing.
Bright valleys crown'd with flowers,
Gay birds on soaring wing,
Incite our tuneful powers,
Then cheerily, cheerily sing,
2 In sweet harmonious measures
We'll praise creation's King;
The author of our pleasures,
Will gratefully, gratefully sing,--We'll sing.
Although some grief may wound us
With agonizing sting,
Yet blessings still surround us,
Then joyfully, joyfully sing,
3 The God of consolation
Relief will quickly bring;
He promises salvation,
So hopefully, hopefully sing,--We'll sing.
We hope to meet in heav'n,
Where praises ceaseless ring,
When we shall be forgiven,
And gloriously, gloriously sing,