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The Harp That |
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Once : To |
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Oombayga and family |
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The harp that once through |
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Tara's halls |
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The soul of music shed |
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Now hangs as mute on |
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Tara's walls |
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As if that soul were fled |
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So sleeps the pride of former days |
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So glory's thrill is o'er |
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And the hearts that once beat high for praise |
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Now feel that pulse no more |
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No more to chiefs and ladies bright |
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The harp of |
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Tara swells |
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The chord alone that breaks at night |
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Its tale of ruin tells |
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Thus freedom now so seldom wakes |
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The only throb she gives |
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Is when some heart indignant breaks |
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To show that still she lives |
