Cathedral bells were tolling
and our hearts sang on;
Was it the spell of Paris
or the April dawn?
Who knows if we shall meet again?
But when the morning chimes
ring sweet again...
I'll be seeing you
in all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces
all day through.
In that small café,
the park across the way
The children's carousel,
the chestnut tree, the wishing well.
I'll be seeing you
in every lovely summer's day,
In everything that's light and gay,
I'll always think of you that way.I'll find you in the morning sun
and when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon,
but I'll be seeing you.
Lyrics - Irving Kahal Music- Sammy Fain Arrangement - Darmon Meader for the New York Voices
If you should ask any girl from the parish around
What pleases her most from her head to her toes,
She'll say - I'm not sure that it's business of yours,
But I do like to waltz with a log driver.
Refrain: For he goes birling down a-down the white water;
That's where the log driver learns to step lightly.
It's birling down, a-down white water;
A log driver's waltz pleases girls completely.
When the drive's nearly over, I like to go down
To see all the lads while they work on the river.
I know that come evening they'll be in the town
And we all want to waltz with a log driver. For he goes….
To please both my parents I've had to give way
And dance with the doctors and merchants and lawyers.
Their manners are fine but their feet are of clay
For there's none with the style of a log driver.
For he goes…
I've had my chances with all sorts of men
But none is so fine as my lad on the river.
So when the drive's over, if he asks me again,
I think I will marry my log driver.
For he goes…
Words and Music: Wade Hemsworth Arrangement: Ron Smail
Make me a captive, Lord,
And then I shall be free.
Force me to render up my sword,
And I shall conqueror be.
I sink in life's alarms
When by myself I stand;
Imprison me within thine arms,
And strong shall be my hand.
Text: George Matheson, Music: Gordon Adnams
Kontakion
Give rest, O Christ, to your servants with your saints
Where sorrow and pain are no more,
neither sighing but life ever lasting.
You only are immortal,
the creator and maker of all;
and we are mortal,
formed of the earth,
and to earth shall we return.
For so did you ordain when you created me, saying;
"You are dust, and to dust you shall return."
All of us go down to the dust;
yet even at the grave we make our song:
Alleluia, Alleluia
Text: Eastern Byzantine Rite Music: Stephanie Martin
