Prelude Of Joy

Toll the great bells of eager
Wave the turgid flags so elated
Let cannons not be meagre
To what we have created

This be the joy they did utter
That made boast men meek
That sends the birds into flutter
And gives mountains their peak

Twill send ten thousand feet in march
That'll be our graceful ploy
Fill no face with starch
Give us death or give us joy

by Doc Biskind

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