Representative Poetry Online

Poems

1Why hang'st thou lonely on yon withered bough?

2Unstrung for ever, must thou there remain;

3Thy music once was sweet -- who hears it now?

4Why doth the breeze sigh over thee in vain?

5Silence hath bound thee with her fatal chain;

6Neglected, mute, and desolate art thou,

7Like ruined monument on desert plain:

8O! many a hand more worthy far than mine

9Once thy harmonious chords to sweetness gave,

10And many a wreath for them did Fame entwine

11Of flowers still blooming on the minstrel's grave:

12Those hands are cold -- but if thy notes divine

13May be by mortal wakened once again,

14Harp of my country, let me strike the strain!