Adieu my lov'd harp, for no more shall the vale, Re-echo thy notes as they float on the gale; No more melting pity shall sigh o'er thy String; Or love to thy tremblings so tenderly sing. When battle's fell strife launch'd its thunders afar, And valour's dark brow wore the honours of war; 'Twas thou breath'd the fame of the hero around, And young emulation was wak'd by the sound. Ye daughters of Erin soon comes the sad day, When over the turf where I sleep ye shall say: "Oh! Still is the song we repaid with a tear, And silent the string that delighted the ear."
Seven British Songs
by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770 - 1827)
1. Adieu my lov'd harp  [sung text checked 1 time]
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Researcher for this page: Ferdinando Albeggiani2. Castle O'Neil
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3. O was not I a weary wight! (Oh ono chri!)  [sung text checked 1 time]
O was not I a weary wight! Oh ono chri! Maid, Wife and Widow in one night, oh ono chri! When in my soft and yelding arms, oh ono chri! When most I thought him free from harms, oh ono chri! Even at the dead time of the night, oh ono chri, They broke my bower, and flew my Knight, oh ono chri, With ae lock o'his jet black hair, oh ono chri, I'll tye my heart for ever mair, oh ono chri! Nae fly-tongued youth, or flattering swain, oh ono chri, Shall e'er untie this knot again, oh ono chri, Thine still, dear youth, that heart shall be, oh ono chri, Nor pant for aught save heaven and thee, oh ono chri!
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Researcher for this page: Ferdinando Albeggiani4. Red gleams the sun on yon hill tap  [sung text checked 1 time]
Red gleams the sun on yon hill tap, The dew sits on the gowan; Deep murmurs thro' her glens the spey, Around Kinrara rowan. Where art thou, fairest, kindest lass? Alas! wert thou but near me, Thy gentle soul, thy melting eye, Would ever, ever cheer me. The lavr'ock sings among the clouds, The lambs they sport so cheery, And I sit weeping by the birk, O where art thou, my dearie? Aft may I meet the morning dew, Lang greet till I be weary, Thou canna, winna, gentle maid, Thou cann be my dearie.
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- from Volkslieder (Folksongs) , Scottish air
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Researcher for this page: Ferdinando Albeggiani5. Erin! O Erin!  [sung text checked 1 time]
Like the bright lamp that lay on Kildare's holly fane, And burn'd thro'long ages of darkness and storm, Is the heart that sorrows have frow'd on in vain, Whose spirit outlives them, unfading and warm. Erin, O Erin, thus bright thro'the tears Of a long night of bondage thy spirit appears. The nations have fallen, and thou still art young, Thy sun is but rising, when others are set; And tho' slav'ry's cloud o'er thy morning hath hung, The full noon of freedom shall beam round thee yet. Erin, O Erin, tho'long in the shade, Thy star will shine out when the proudest shall fade. Unchill'd by the rain, and unwak'd by the wind, The lily lies sleeping thro' winter's cold hour, Till the hand of Spring her dark chain unbind, And daylight and liberty bless the young flow'r. Erin, O Erin, thy winter is past, And the hope that liv'd thro'it shall blossom at last.
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Researcher for this page: Ferdinando Albeggiani6. O Mary, ye's be clad in silk  [sung text checked 1 time]
O Mary, ye's be clad in silk, And diamonds in your hair, Gin ye'll consent to be my bride Nor think on Arthur mair. Oh, wha wad wear a silken gown, Wi' tears blinding their ee? Before I'll break my true love's heart, I'll lay me down and die. For I have pledg'd my virgin troth, Brave Arthur's fate to share, And he has gi'en to me his heart Wi' a' its virtues rare. The mind whose every wish is pure, Far dearer is to me, And e'er I'm forced to break my faith, I'll lay me down and die. So trust me when I swear to thee, By a' that is on high, Thoug, ye had a'this warld's gear, My heart ye couldna buy; For langest life can ne'er repay, The love he bears to me; And e'er I'm forced to break my troth, I'll lay me down and die.
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Researcher for this page: Ferdinando Albeggiani7. Lament for Owen Roe O'Neill
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