by Emily Brontë (1818 - 1848)

Harp of wild and dreamy strain, when I...
Language: English 
Harp of wild and dreamy strain, when I touch thy strings,
Why sound out of longforgotten things?
Harp, in other, earlier days, I could sing to thee;
And not one of all my lays vexed my memory.

But now, if I awake a note that gave me joy before
Sounds of sorrow from thee float,
Changing evermore.

Yet, still steeped in memory's dyes, come sailing on,
Darkening my summer skies,
Shutting out my sun.

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Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Researcher for this text: Victoria Brago

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 10
Word count: 74