Dear Harp of my Country! in darkness I found thee, The cold chain of silence had hung o'er thee long; When proudly, my own Island Harp, I unbound thee And gave all thy chords to light, freedom and song! The warm lay of love and the light [note]1 of gladness Have waken'd thy fondest, thy liveliest thrill; But so oft hast thou echo'd the deep sigh of sadness, That e'en in thy mirth it will steal from thee still. Dear Harp of my Country! [farewell]2 to thy numbers This sweet wreath of song is the last we shall twine[!]3 Go, sleep with the sunshine of Fame on thy slumbers, Till touch'd by some hand less unworthy than mine[;]4 If the pulse of the patriot, soldier, or lover, Have throbb'd at our lay 'tis thy glory alone; I was but as the wind, passing heedlessly over, And all the wild sweetness I waked was thy own!
Confirmed with Thomas Moore, A New Edition from the last London Edition, Boston: Lee and Shepard; New York: Lee, Shepard, & Dillingham, 1876.
1 Britten : “tone”
2 Britten : “Farewell”
3 Britten : “,”
4 Britten : “,”
- by Thomas Moore (1779 - 1852), "Dear Harp of my Country", appears in Irish Melodies [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , title 1: "Chère Harpe de mon Pays", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Ted Perry
Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:01:54
Line count: 16
Word count: 155