Oh Harp of Judah! long thy thrilling strain
Hath slumbered ’mid the gloom of centuries—
Save when some master-spirit woke again
Thy silent chords of thousand symphonies.
Not thine, his swelling anthems loudly ringing—
Oh Maid of Judah! with thy prophet-song,
And sounding timbrel’s voice, all proudly flinging
Thy warrior-notes Judea’s hills among!
Oh voiceless harp! fain would my soul-wrapt ear
Catch some faint echo from thy silent strings.