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 she 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 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--
The folks that I have known
Around the turf fire gathered
On bended knee, 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 foot ways here with gold dust,
I still would choose
My Isle of Inisfree!