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P. P. Bliss. P. P. Bliss.

1. Let oth - ers sing of days gone by, O’er "good old times" let them

2. No voice have we for songs of yore, No thrones for kings who re -

grieve and sigh; Be ours a cheer-i-er, hap - pi - er lay, In

turn no more, But hail with spir - its so glad and so gay, The

praise of beau - ti - ful, wel-come To - day, To - day, . . . To -

songs and scenes that in - vite us to - daay, To - day, . . . To -

O beau-ti-ful, welcome To-

day, The bright To - day; To - day, . . . To-

day, The bright To - day; To - day, . . . To-

day, To-day ; The beau - ti- ful bright To-day; O beau-ti - ful, wel-come To

day; The bright To - day. With friends so true,

day; The bright To - day. With friends so true,

day; The bright To - day. With friends so true, . . . . . . And

And pleasures new, La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la,

And pleasures new, La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la,

pleasures new . . . . . . .

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la,

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la,

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la. . . . .

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la. . . . .

La, la, la, la.