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.