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Poem by 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!

[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”, – Beaufort’s “Ancient Topography of Ireland.”



Thomas Moore


Thomas Moore's other poems:
  1. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 52
  2. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 38
  3. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 54
  4. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 56
  5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 17


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