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Soul of a Harper
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A wonderful song written by acclaimed fantasy author, bard, storyteller, Rie Sheridan. This song was actually written for me to sing and has a wonderful melody. One day soon, I'll learn it.
mandolin autoharp recorde
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The Original Celtic Renaissance duo from Austin, TX! Called Masters of Traditional Folk by The Austin Chronicle, Marc Gunn and Andrew McKee join the autoharp, r
We are the Brobdingnagian Bards (pronounced brAHb'ding-näg-EE-en). We perform a unique style of Celtic folk music that we like to call "a Renaissance in Celtic music" or "The Original Celtic Renaissance. Ask our fans though, and they'll tell you our music is just plain "fun!" With six studio albums completed in just five years, combined with ten other compilations, singles and EPs, we've been called one of the most-productive Celtic groups around. But we just love playing the music.
Song Info
Genre
Acoustic • Acoustic Folk
Charts
Peak #66
Peak in subgenre #3
Author
words by Rie Sheridan and music by Sheridan-Gunn
Rights
Gunn-McKee
Uploaded
January 26, 2006
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.3 MB • 192 kbps • 3:34
Lyrics
Oh, they say 'tis a hanging that soon I will be-- My body a-twisting from yonder oak tree-- For daring to think that a man could live free... but though I may die, 'tis a harper I'll be. The strings of my harp will never be stilled while the green of the shamrock still grows on the hill for the music of Ireland is her strength and her will and the soul of a harper no mortal can kill. Oh, the red-headed queen on her cold golden throne fears harper freedom she never has known Our bright Gaelic passion comes through in the tone so she orders it silenced and broods all alone. The strings of my harp will never be stilled while the green of the shamrock still grows on the hill for the music of Ireland is her strength and her will and the soul of a harper no mortal can kill. For a man of the road, death holds no sting. 'Tis another adventure-- a wonderous thing. And I know that my music will evermore ring in the hills and the rivers of each Irish spring. The strings of my harp will never be stilled while the green of the shamrock still grows on the hill for the music of Ireland is her strength and her will and the soul of a harper no mortal can kill.
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