The dollar weekly bulletin. [volume] (Maysville, Ky.) 1862-1864, 1863-10-29
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A square is Twelve lines of this size type
equal to about 100 words of manuscript.
y y = y : For the Bulletin.
EThe Harp that Once in Tara's Halls.

EThe Harp that Once in Tara's Halls.
,.-.,., It may be that am wrong, 80 -
Z In the strange fancy that some lines read
We're written by thy hand, for years have fed,
Dreamy, and sad and lorg f
Since last we parted, TO dream in vain
That we had parted then, to meet again.
Time has no: yet effaced
The memory ofthat ream, though o Ter the past
Dense shadows and dark changes have been cast,
And hopes have run to waste
Which bIoomed at first, luxuriant, bright, and
free
Planted and nurtured, and sustained by thee.
Hast thou forgotten ala
All the fresh thoughts of fyouth?-have they been
hurl'd
Far from thy heart, upon the giddy world
.. Till they are cast recalll
Then have strung my Tyre with fruitless care,
To breathe its numbers the empty air.
Voiceless and echoless
Have been the years between us, from the hour
In which thy last word fingered with power
Beyond forgetfulness..
Unnumbered links which memory's chain had
... wound
Around my heart, are all from thine unbound.
Obi yes! for it were strange .....
If thou 'gainst natures 6ckIeness should strive,
Or aught save woman's memory, shoVld survive
The wreck of Time and change
Mans thoughts. which on the worlds rough
waves are castI
oblivion's tide rolls on, and browns the past.
Then let me bid farewell
To the vain hopes which haunt my memory
Long crushed within my heart, why should they
be,
A theme on which to dwell
Let them pass on and mingle with the dreams
Which vanish from the mind with morning
Life once was bright to mel
Thou knowest how bright its scenes when frat
Howdarkly 81 nee its morning sun has set!
need not tell to thee,
Unwslcome were the tale of after years!
The history Of the faith washed out in tears.
Tis done! 1 ask thee not
For sympathy, or interest in the Pastl
l ask thee not if clouds have meier o'ercast
What seemed thy brighter lot;
There's naught for us in common on life's stage,
Since youth has yielded to maturer age:
But ah! if Ger again
Our paths should m ct, 1 would the mystery
Which hangs around our parting hour should be
Explained. although in vain;
For have sought to read it, till my mind
Was like a sea Ofchaos-undefnedl
Yet it were idle
To wish the past unraveled: It's all toolate!
The dark threads woven in my web of fate,
Have long since marked my brow
With traces of deep feelings inv nrd strife
And crossed with sombre lines my path of life.
The future ne'cI can bling
Back to my heart; its early confidence;
For blank, and cold, and dark indifference
Has checked the elastic spring
Ofjoyous hope, and fancy's dreams of truth
Have feeted, with the visions of my youth.
OH they but Knocked my heart!
Truth is not born Of earth ehthroned in light,
1t dwells unchanged forever pure and bright
From the false world apart;
Based on the Rock of Ages" shining clear,
Unhurt by unbelef-unmoved by fear.
And now my lay is DER!
Ny harp its farewell numbers breathes to thee;
In vain perchance may be its minStrelsy-
For in thy he art no more
A thought or memory of me may dwell
For Time hath made us strangers-fare thee well!
NASHVILLE, KY, 21st, '63. R. II. L: