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.
No one can read the words without “thinking” the tune. It is supposed that Moore composed them both.
THE MARSEILLAISE HYMN.
Ye sons of France, awake to glory!
Hark! hark! what millions bid you rise!