Pleasant Arann

Arann! — in deer delighting!
Ocean smiles o'er her shoulders;
Men have feasts there, and righting,
Blue darts redden 'mid boulders.

Hinds make merry her mountains,
O'er moss-berries they've morriced;
Rills flow cool from her fountains,
Nuts fill her brown oak forest.

Hounds are there of high powers,
Fruits are bending the bramble;
Homes are bough-woven bowers,
Deer in the deep wood ramble.

Red her rock-crop for reaping,
Faultless grass grow her valleys;
Over smooth wood-lawns leaping,
Fawns dance, dappled, in alleys.

Sleek her swine in the musters,
Truly nothing comes nigh her;
Fair, through the hazel clusters,
Sailing of long ships by her.

Pleasant, when winter's dying —
With trout 'neath banks not barren,
Fleet gulls, answering, flying —
Pleasant all times is Arann!