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!