Tara's Harp

Christmas. The time of ringing and singing. I here will heave a sigh for the places, the days and the times in which the bells were actually heard to ring on Christmas Day, as well as on other occasions. Today, we hear sirens, but the bells are silent. It brings to mind this wonderful poem by Thomas Moore: “The Harp that Once Through Tara's Halls”.

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 praise no more.

No more to chiefs and ladies bright,

The harp of Tara swells;

The chord alone, that breaks at night,

Its tale of ruin tells.

Thus Freedom now so seldom wakes,

The only throb she gives

Is when some heart indignant breaks,

To show that still she lives.

Tara's halls are the halls of an ancient seat of authority in Ireland where clans and kingdoms met to forge bonds of peace, pass judgment on certain crimes and celebrate prosperity among the people. Hundreds of years were spent in peace in that land until there was a day when one group of people chose to ignore the laws. This breach set in motion a chain of events that eventually put the King into exile, whereupon the halls of Tara were closed and the councils of peace were stopped. The history of Ireland is one long tale of war an unrest from that day to this.

The harp in Tara's halls rang for freedom and peace. The bells in this country used to ring for the same thing. Now the bells are silent, as the harp. Freedom and peace lie bound in a corner, as one by one, the fetters of tyranny are forged upon a once-free people. No, freedom is not dead, but sleeps. Daily we hear accounts of encroachments and losses on the side of freedom. Helpless for the most part, we stand and watch.

Oh, that the bells of Christmas could ring, and the sound of freedom sing throughout this land where it was born of Pilgrims and Patriots not so long ago. But if that soul is fled, as from Tara's halls, then let my own heart break to show that she still lives, for there is nothing so vital and so precious as freedom. There are those who would have us believe that we must give up some of our freedom in order to purchase security. By these measures we have lost nearly all the freedom we once had to give. I would say: Take security, comfort, convenience, and all worldly possessions but leave me free to pursue my life as I see fit and I will still be wealthy enough. Take from me my freedom to live, worship and pursue happiness and you had better take my life as well, for it has no value without such freedom. Let the harp of Tara sing once more in this great land. Let the bells of Christmas ring.