My Gentle Harp
My gentle harp, once more I waken
the sweetness of thy slumb'ring strain,
In tears our last farewell was taken,
And now in tears we meet again.
Yes even then while peace was singing
Her halcyon song o'er land and sea,
Though joy and hope to others bringing,
She only brought new tears to thee.

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 e'en the wreaths in which I dress thee,
Are sadly mixed, half flowers, half chains?

by: Androkk (Irish song)