Full Lyrics
’Tis believed that this Harp, which I wake now for thee
Was a Syren of old, who sung under the sea;
And who often, at eve, through the bright billows roved,
To meet, on the green shore, a youth whom she loved.
But she loved him in vain, for he left her to weep,
And in tears, all the night, her gold ringlets to steep,
Till heaven look’d with pity on truelove so warm,
And changed to this soft Harp the seamaiden’s form.
Still her bosom rose fairstill her cheeks smiled the same
While her seabeauties gracefully curl’d round the frame;
And her hair, shedding teardrops from all its bright rings
Fell over her white arm, to make the gold strings!°
Hence it came, that this soft Harp so long hath been known
Still to mingle Love’s language with Sorrow’s sad tone;
Till thou didst divide them, and teach the fond lay
To speak love when I’m near thee, and grief when away.
