And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls, Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.
And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls, Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.
There was a little man, and he had a little soul And he said, Little Soul, let us try, try, try.
The harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls As if that soul were fled. So sleeps the pride of former days, So glory's thrill is o'er And hearts that once beat high for praise Now feel that pulse no more.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories