Indexed in the public record
The harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls As if that soul were fled. So sleeps the pride of former days, So glory's thrill is o'er; And hearts that once beat high for praise Now feel that pulse no more.
Provenance
Type:
quote
Confidence:
0.85
Indexed:
2026-07-04
Hash:
dc9e915d40aae36da84e2c7c5a71af67dd1bf122191623f869550d0013fed250
public domain

Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 9th ed. (Little, Brown, 1905), public domain

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