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IRISH MELODIES. |
135 |
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OH! ARRANMORE, LOV'D ARRANMORE.
Oh ! Arranmore, lov'd Arranmore,
How oft I dream of thee, And of those days when, by thy shore,
I wander'd young and free. Full many a path I've tried, since then,
Through 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 danc'd 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 ; — *
That Eden, where th' immortal brave
Dwell in a land serene,— Whose bowers beyond the shining wave,
At sunset, oft are seen. |
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* * 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." — Beaufort's Ancient Topography of Ireland. |
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K 4 |
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