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;—

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!