Besedila

Besedila

ROTHSAY-O

One Hogmany at Glesca’ Fair, There was me, my’sel’ and’ sev’ral mair And we all went off tae hae a tear, and spend the night in Rothsay-o We wandered thru

Besedila

TARA’S HARP

The harp that once through Tara’s Hall the soul of music shed Now hangs as mute on Tara’s wall as if that soul were fled So sleeps the pride of former days

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