by Thomas Moore (1779 - 1852)

Dear Harp of my Country!
Language: English 
Available translation(s): FRE
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!

View original text (without footnotes)
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 : “,”

Authorship

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