Dear Harp of my Country
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 of gladness
Have waken'd thy fondest, thy livliest thrill,
But, so oft hast thou echoed the deep sigh of sadness,
That even in thy mirth it will steal from thee still.
Dear Harp of my country! farewell to thy numbers,
This sweet wreath of song is the last we shall twine!
Go, sleep with the sunshine of Fame on thy slumbers,
Till touch'd by some hand less unworthy than mine.
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.
Thomas Moore's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Dear Harp of my Country by Thomas Moore )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(2 June 1840 – 11 January 1928)
Sheldon Allan Silverstein
(September 25, 1930 – May 10, 1999)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 October 1938)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(13 February 1879 - 2 March 1949)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
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