There are no strangers here; Only friends you haven't yet met.

There are no strangers here; Only friends you haven't yet met.

Think where mans glory most begins and ends, and say my glory was I had such friends.

But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

Think where man's glory most begins and ends, and say my glory was I had such friends.

You that would judge me, do not judge alone this book or that, come to this hallowed place where my friends' portraits hang and look thereon; Ireland's history in their lineaments trace; think where man's glory most begins and ends and say my glory was I had such friends.