lyrics
Silent O Moyle
Silent, O Moyle, be the roar of thy water,
Break not, ye breezes, your chain of repose,
While murmuring mournfully, Lir's lonely daughter
Tells to the night-star her tale of woes.
When shall the swan, her death-note singing,
Sleep, with wings in darkness furl'd?
When wil head'n, it's sweet bell ringing,
Call her spirit from this stormy world?
Sadly, oh Moyle, to thy winter-wave weeping,
Fate bids me languish long ages away;
Yet still in her darkness Erin lies sleeping,
Still doth the pure light it's dawning day
When will that day star, wildly springing,
Warm out isle with peace and love?
When will heav'n, its sweet bell ringing,
Call her spirit from the fields up there?
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