Dear Harp of my Country! in darkness I found thee, <br />The cold chain of Silence had hung o'er thee long. <br />When proudly, my own Island Harp, I unbound thee, <br />And gave all thy chords to light, freedom, and song. <br />The warm lay of love and the light note of gladness <br />Have waken'd thy fondest, thy livliest thrill, <br />But, so oft hast thou echoed the deep sigh of sadness, <br />That even in thy mirth it will steal from thee still. <br /> <br />Dear Harp of my country! farewell to thy numbers, <br />This sweet wreath of song is the last we shall twine! <br />Go, sleep with the sunshine of Fame on thy slumbers, <br />Till touch'd by some hand less unworthy than mine. <br />If the pulse of the patriot, soldier, or lover, <br />Have throbb'd at our lay, 'tis thy glory alone; <br />I was but as the wind, passing heedlessly over, <br />And all the wild sweetness I waked was thy own.<br /><br />Thomas Moore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dear-harp-of-my-country/
