@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...AFTER THE BATTLE (OF AUGHRIM) by THOMAS MOORE WHO GOES THERE? by GRACE DUFFIE BOYLAN FIVE LITTLE WANDERINGS: 5. AGE by BERTON BRALEY LYNTON VERSES: 4. LYNTON TO PORLOCK (EXMOOR) by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN THE DHOON by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |