Oh did you go to see the show, Each rose and pink and Lily-O, To feast your eyes upon the prize Won by the Orange Lily-O? The Viceroy there so debonair, Just like a daffydilly O, And Lady Clarke, blithe as a lark, Approached the Orange Lily-O. Then heigh-ho the Lily-O, The royal loyal Lily-O, Beneath the sky what flow'r can vie With Ireland's Orange Lily-O. The elated muse, to hear the news, Jumped like a Connacht filly O, As gossip fame did loud proclaim The triumph of the Lily-O. The lowland field may roses yield, Gay heaths the highlands hilly O, But high or low, no flower can show Like the glorious Orange Lily-O. Let dandies fine in Bond Street shine, Gay nymphs in Piccadilly, But fine or gay will yield the day To Erin's Orange Lily-O. Then heigh-ho the Lily-O, The royal, loyal Lily-O, There's not a flower in Erin's bower, Can match the Orange Lily-O. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER WRITING A POEM by DAVID IGNATOW THE NEW APOCRYPHA: BUSINESS REVERSES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS RAIN MUSIC by JOSEPH SEAMON COTTER JR. THIS SUMMER AND LAST by THOMAS HARDY THE ORCHARD PIT by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI |