The National Song Book - Online Music Book

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

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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.
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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