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The Harp That Once Through Tara's Halls

C	F
The harp that once through	Tara's halls

	C	G	C
The	soul of	music	shed,

	Am	F
Now	hangs as mute on	Tara's walls,

	G
As if that soul were	fled

	C	F
So	sleeps the pride of	former days,

	G7	C
So glory's thrill is o'er;	And

	F
hearts that once beat	high for praise,

	C	G	C
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.
Thus Freedom now so seldom wakes,
The only throb she gives
Is when some heart indignant breaks,
To show that still she lives.

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