There's no use in weeping,
Though we are condemned to part:
There's such a thing as keeping
A remembrance in one's heart:
There's such a thing as dwelling
On the thought ourselves have nurs'd,
And with scorn and courage telling
The world to do its worst.
We'll not let its follies grieve us,
We'll just take them as they come;
And then every day will leave us
A merry laugh for home.
When we've left each friend and brother,
wrought
bonds
parted
follies
every
heart
sight
courage
keeping
thought
truly
where
hands
connect
another
dwelling
leave
beneath
condemned
pleasant
above
burst
friend
human
think
which
death
ourselves
worst
again
better
scorn
brother
chain
laugh
merry
remembrance
restrain
weeping
shall
telling
grieve
glorious
thing
those
though
world
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