Isle Of Inisfree

I've met some folks who say that I'm a dreamer,

And I've no doubt there's truth in what they say,

But sure a body's bound to be a dreamer

When all the things he loves are far away.

And precious things are dreams unto an exile.

They take him o'er the land across the sea --

Especially when it happens he's an exile

From that dear lovely Isle of Inisfree.

And when the moonlight peeps across the rooftops

Of this great city, wondrous though it be,

I scarcely feel its wonder or its laughter.

I'm once again back home in Inisfree.

I wander o'er green hills through dreamy valleys

And find a peace no other land could know.

I hear the birds make music fit for angels

And watch the rivers laughing as they flow.

And then into a humble shack I wander --

My dear old home -- and tenderly behold

The folks I love around the turf fire gathered.

On bended knees ,their rosary is told.

But dreams don't last --

Though dreams are not forgotten --

And soon I'm back to stern reality.

But though they pave the footways here with gold dust,

I still would choose the Isle of Inisfree.

* Gaelic words meaning "love of my heart"