Oh! many a glorious voice is gone
From the rich bowers of earth,
And hush’d is many a lovely one
Of mournfulness or mirth.
The Dorian flute that sigh’d of yore
Along the wave, is still;
The harp of Judah peals no more
On Zion’s awful hill.
And Memnon’s lyre hath lost the chord
That breathed the mystic tone;