THE TRIBUNE.
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The IRISH HARP has long been celebrated for
the wildness and beauty of its music. The best
players on thg instrumen, have been blind, so that
blindness has become almost a sine qua non IN a
skilful Harper, Theirs is between poetry and mu-
sic fond alliance and hence the enc always comes
to the others aid The following beautiful lines
on this subject are from the NewHaven Herald
for which they were written by J G. PERcIvAL,
ESQ. On occasion of Mr.. Wall, the blind Har-
per's Concert there.


The Harper once in Tara 8 halls,


Rung loud the martial strain;
Nor were those full and stirring notes


Struck by his hand in vain.
They reused the sons OF Enn, 1af


To drive the invading foe
Thsy fired the heart that nerved the hand'


To deal the avengipg blow.
In vest of green, the Harper sat


Beside the royal throne,
The goden chain, that slung his harp,


In pride around him thrown.
Wide through the halls his music rang,


And warriors leaped to hear;
Drew the bright sword, and shook it high


And tossed the beamy spear
But TaYa's hall, are seen no more;


In ruin low they lie:
The green turf Ger them weaves its sod;


The weeds there mantle high
And Erin's sons no longer leap


To hear their harp's wild tone:
The light that Ger their country shed


It's beam from heaven, has flown.
And sadly now the Harper wends


To other realms his way:
He seeks frser, happier land,


Where Britons bear no sway.
Then welcome here, with generous cheer,


The minstrel, wandering lone;
And let us ever. hold him dear,


And prize him as our own.