The Isle of Inesfree

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 laughter,

I'm once again back home in Inisfree.
I wonder o'er green hills

Through dreamy valleys,

And find a peace

No other land would 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 knee

Their prayer to God 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 My Isle of Inisfree.