ON THE TUNE CALLED THE OLD-HUNDRED-AND-FOURTH

We never sang together

Ravenscroft's terse old tune

On Sundays or on weekdays,

In sharp or summer weather,

At night-time or at noon.

Why did we never sing it,

Why never so incline

On Sundays or on weekdays,

Even when soft wafts would wing it

From your far floor to mine?

Shall we that tune, then, never

Stand voicing side by side

On Sundays or on weekdays?...

Or shall we, when for ever

In Sheol we abide,

Sing it in desolation,

As we might long have done

On Sundays or on weekdays

With love and exultation

Before our sands had run?