The Harp of Erin Containing the Poetical Works of the Late Thomas Dermody. In Two Volumes |
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SONG.
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 | The Harp of Erin |  |
SONG.
[Cold lies that form beneath the sod]
Cold lies that form beneath the sod,
Where all the graces shone;
Cold too that breast, a languid load,
Which virtue mark'd her own.
Where all the graces shone;
Cold too that breast, a languid load,
Which virtue mark'd her own.
Ah! never shall that sprightly eye,
Illume life's dreary gloom;
To silence charm that anguish'd sigh,
That now bewails thy tomb.
Illume life's dreary gloom;
To silence charm that anguish'd sigh,
That now bewails thy tomb.
Ah! never shall thy balmy lip,
Speak comfort to my soul,
In ecstacy my troubles steep,
And ev'ry grief control.
Speak comfort to my soul,
In ecstacy my troubles steep,
And ev'ry grief control.
Ah! never shall that heav'nly breast,
Support my aching head;—
—Grim horror's now thy baleful guest,
Thy train, the ghastly dead!
Support my aching head;—
—Grim horror's now thy baleful guest,
Thy train, the ghastly dead!
| The Harp of Erin | |