Dear harp of my country! in darkness I found thee,
The cold chain of silence had hung o'er thee long;
When proudly, my own island harp! I unbound thee,
And gave all thy chords to light, freedom, and song!

The warm lay of love and the light tone of gladness
Have waken'd thy fondest, thy liveliest thrill;
But so oft has thou echo'd the deep sigh of sadness,
That e'en in thy mirth it will steal from thee still.

Dear harp of my country! farewell to thy numbers.
This sweet wreath of song is the last we shall twine;
Go, sleep with the sunshine of fame on thy slumbers,
Till touch'd by some hand less unworthy than mine.

If the pulse of the patriot, soldier, or lover,
Have throbb'd at our lay, 'tis thy glory alone;
I was but as the wind, passing heedlessly over,
And all the wild sweetness I waked was thy own!

• Come You Not from Newcastle?
• Dear Harp of My Country!
• Early One Morning
• Fileuse
• How Sweet The Answer
• La Belle Est Au Jardin D'amour
• Little Sir William
• O Can Ye Sew Cushions?
• O Waly, Waly
• Oft in The Stilly Night
• Oliver Cromwell
• Quand J'йtais Chez Mon Pиre
• Sweet Polly Oliver
• The Ash Grove
• The Last Rose of Summer
• The Plough Boy
• The Trees They Grow So High
• There's None to Soothe
• Voici Le Printemps