Thomas Moore

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 I’ve tried, since then,
  	Thro’ pleasure’s flowery maze,
But ne’er could find the bliss again
  	I felt in those sweet days.

How blithe upon thy breezy cliffs,
  	At sunny morn I’ve stood,
With heart as bounding as the skiffs
  	That danced along thy flood;
Or, when the western wave grew bright
  	With daylight’s 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 o’er the main
Are like the hopes I built in youth, –
  	As sunny and as vain!