The National Song Book - Online Music Book

250 Folk-songs, Carols, And Rounds with sheet music and lyrics

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137
2.
How mournfully the midnight air
Among thy chords doth sigh, As if it sought some echo there
Of voices long gone by ; Of Chieftains, now forgot, who seem'd
The foremost then in fame; Of Bards, who once immortal deem'd,
Now sleep without a name. In vain, sad Harp, the midnight air
Among thy chords doth sigh, In vain it seeks an echo there
Of voices long gone by.
3-
Cuuldst thou but call those spirits round,
Who once, in bow'r and hall. Sat list'ning to thy magic sound,
Now mute and mould'ring all; But, no; they would but wake to weep
Their children's slavery; Then leave them in their dreamless sleep.
The dead at least are free ! Hush, hush, sad Harp, that dreary tone,
That knell of Freedom's day; Or, list'ning to its death-like moan,
Let me, too, die away.
H. 4868.
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