With deep emotion—that's what I'll do!
(Gazes mournfully at her unstrung harp, and, smitten by another reminiscence, sings plaintively):—
AIR—"The harp that once through Tara(ra)'s Halls."
The harp that once through Music Halls
Sheer maddening rapture shed,
Now hangs as mute on willow-walls
As though that Boom were dead.
So dims the pride of former days,
So fame's fine thrill is o'er,
And throngs who once yelled high with praise,