  I have dreams of the outer islands, Firths and forths of the Far-Away; I have dreams of the heathery highlands Under the golden day. I have dreams of a sliding river— Shannon—under the stars and sun; I have dreams how the oar-blades quiver, And the silvery salmon run. I have dreams of a blithe lad striding Out through the streets of Limerick-town; I have dreams of a sweet maid biding Under a thatch of brown. But here I lie all huddled and hidden, (Oh, the eternity it seems!) Brooding desolate and bed-ridden, Living only in dreams! |
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