the moorings – silent, o moyle lyrics
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silent, oh 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 will heav’n, its sweet bell ringing
call my 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 doth erin lie sleeping
still doth the pure light its dawning delay
when will that day-star, mildly springing
warm our isle with peace and love?
when will heav’n, its sweet bell ringing
call my spirit to the fields above?
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