TARA'S HARP



The harp that once through Tara's Hall the soul of music shed

Now hangs as mute on Tara's wall as if that soul were fled

So sleeps the pride of former days so glory's thrill is o'er

And hearts that once beat high for praise now feel that pulse no more



No more to chiefs and ladies bright, the harp of Tara swells

The chord alone, that breaks at night, its tale of ruin tells

This freedom now so seldom wakes, the only throb she gives

Is when some heart indignant breaks, to show that still she lives



by Thomas Moore 1779-1852

@Irish @music

filename[ TARAHARP

play.exe TARAHARP

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