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!