arranged by Mark Burstow
for unaccompanied TTBB chorus

performance time approx 2m 00s

Music

You need Acrobat Reader on your computer to see music pages. If you don't have Acrobat Reader, go to our 'links' page to find out how to get it free of charge. (You'll have to go back to the catalogue page first).

Words

Silent O Moyle be the roar of thy waters;
Break not ye breezes your chain of repose.
While murmuring mournfully, Lir’s lonely daughter
Tells to the night star her tale of woe.
When shall the swan, her death note singing,
Sleep with wings in darkness furled?
When will Heav’n its sweet bell ringing
Call my spirit from this stormy world?

Sadly O Moyle, to thy winter wave weeping,
Fate bids me languish, long ages away.
Yet still in her darkness does Erin lie sleeping;
Still doth the pure light its dawning delay.
When will that day star, mildy springing,
Warm our Isle with peace and love?
When will Heav’n its sweet bell ringing
Call my spirit to the fields above?

Thomas Moore

Background to the song

There was a time in ancient Ireland when the people believed in magic and in Lir, the lord of the sea. Fionnuala, Lir’s eldest daughter, was enchanted by Aiofe her wicked stepmother, and turned into one of the most beautiful swans ever seen. The spell could only be broken by the sound of a church bell signifying the arrival of Christianity.

Moyle (Sruth na Maoile) is the ancient Irish name given to the stormy straits that form the North Channel between the Antrim coast of Ireland (Erin) and Scotland (Alban).

Mark Burstow

Price

The price of this piece depends on the number of singers in your group. This is a single payment for a licence to make as many copies as you need for your group to rehearse and perform the song as often as you wish. Copies of the song must not be given, lent or sold to any other group.

Companion pieces