@3T@1HERE'S a dear little plant that grows in our isle, 'Twas St. Patrick himself, sure, that set it; And the sun on his labour with pleasure did smile, And with dew from his eye often wet it. It thrives through the bog, through the brake, through the nureland And he called it the dear little shamrock of Ireland. The sweet little shamrock, the dear little shamrock, The sweet little, green little shamrock of Ireland. This dear little plant that springs from our soil, When its three little leaves are extended, Denotes from one stalk we together should toil, And ourselves by ourselves be befriended. And still through the bog, through the brake, through the nureland, From one root should branch, like the shamrock of Ireland. The sweet little shamrock, the dear little shamrock, The sweet little, green little shamrock of Ireland. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUPPLICATION by JOSEPH SEAMON COTTER JR. A LITANY OF ATLANTA by WILLIAM EDWARD BURGHARDT DU BOIS BOSTON COMMON: 1630 by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES UP-HILL by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI STANZAS TO A LADY by JOHN CODRINGTON BAMPFYLDE SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 34. FAIRY LAND by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |