Let me make the songs for the people，

Songs for the old and young；

Songs to stir like a battle-cry

Wherever they are sung.

Not for the clashing of sabres，

For carnage nor for strife^1；

But songs to thrill the hearts of men

With more abundant life.

Let me make the songs for the weary，

Amid life's fever and fret^2，

Till hearts shall relax their tension，

And careworn^{3 brows forget.}

Let me sing for little children，

Before their footsteps stray，

Sweet anthems^{4 of love and duty，}

To float o'er life's highway.

I would sing for the poor and aged^5，

When shadows dim their sight；

Of the bright and restful mansions^6，

Where there shall be no night.

Our world， so worn and weary，

Needs music， pure and strong，

To hush^{7 the jangle and discords8}

Of sorrow， pain， and wrong.

Music to soothe^{9 all its sorrow，}

Till war and crime shall cease；

And the hearts of men grown tender

Girdle the world with peace.