Arthur Somervell
2 voix · Voice, Piano
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The street sounds to the soldiers’ tread, And out we come to see: A single redcoat turns his head, He turns and looks at me. My man, from sky to sky’s so far, We never cross’d be- fore; Such leagues apart the world’s ends are, We’re like to meet no more. What thoughts at heart have you and I, We cannot stop to tell, But, dead or living, drunk or dry, Dead or living, drunk or dry, Soldier, I wish you well. I wish you well!
OpenScore (CC0)
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