My gentle harp - Stanford, Charles Villiers

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"Six Irish Airs (6) AIR: THE CAOINE OR DIRGE"

⌛ Period → Late Romantic ◈ Genre → Folksongs ♬ Voicing → SATB ¶ Language → English

Parts 4

Instruments A cappella

Pages 8

CPDL # 79429

Editor David Anderson

Posted 2024-03-07

License Personal

¶Lyrics / Text

My gentle harp once more I waken The sweetness of thy slumbering strain; In tears our last farewell was taken, And now in tears we meet again. No light of joy hath o’er thee broken, But like those harps whose heavenly skill, Of slavery, dark as thine, hath spoken, Thou hangest upon the willows still. Then who can ask for notes of pleasure, My drooping harp! from chords like Thine! Alas, the lark’s gay morning measure As ill would suit the swan’s decline! Or how shall I, who love, who bless thee, Invoke thy breath for freedom’s strains, When even the wreaths in which I dress thee, Are sadly mixed, half flowers, half chains. But come, if yet thy frame can borrow One breath of joy, oh, breathe for me. And show the world, in chains and sorrow, How sweet thy music still can be; How gaily, even ’mid gloom surrounding, Thou yet canst wake at pleasure’s thrill, like Memnon’s broken image sounding ’Mid desolation tuneful still.