(Thomas Moore)


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 1970- .
14.11.2016 (.)
   




From Irish Melodies. 118. Oh! Arranmore, Loved Arranmore


Oh! Arranmore, loved Arranmore,
  	How oft I dream of thee,
And of those days when, by thy shore,
  	I wandered young and free.
Full many a path Ive tried, since then,
  	Thro pleasures flowery maze,
But neer could find the bliss again
  	I felt in those sweet days.

How blithe upon thy breezy cliffs,
  	At sunny morn Ive stood,
With heart as bounding as the skiffs
  	That danced along thy flood;
Or, when the western wave grew bright
  	With daylights parting wing,
Have sought that Eden in its light,
  	Which dreaming poets sing; [1] 

That Eden where the immortal brave
  	Dwell in a land serene, 
Whose bowers beyond the shining wave,
  	At sunset, oft are seen.
Ah dream too full of saddening truth!
  	Those mansions oer the main
Are like the hopes I built in youth, 
  	As sunny and as vain!

[1] The inhabitants of Arranmore are still persuaded that, in a clear day, they can see from this coast Hy Brysail or the Enchanted Island, the paradise of the Pagan Irish, and concerning which they relate a number of romantic stories, Beauforts Ancient Topography of Ireland.



:
  1. From Irish Melodies. 102. And Doth Not a Meeting Like This
  2. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 46
  3. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 50
  4. From Irish Melodies. 57. Oh! Had We Some Bright Little Isle of Our Own
  5. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 68




: 1468



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