There's a dear little plant that grows in our isle,
'Twas St. Patrick himself sure that set it;
And the sun on his labor with pleasure did smile,
And with dew from his eye often wet it.
It thrives through the bog, through the brake, and the mireland;
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!
You May Also Like / View all maxioms
For dear is the Emerald Isle of the ocean,
Whose daughters are fair as the foam of the wave,
read more
For dear is the Emerald Isle of the ocean,
Whose daughters are fair as the foam of the wave,
Whose sons unaccustom'd to rebel commotion,
Tho' joyous, are sober--tho' peaceful, are brave.
Dear Erin, how sweetly thy green bosom rises!
An emerald set in the ring of the sea.
read more
Dear Erin, how sweetly thy green bosom rises!
An emerald set in the ring of the sea.
Each blade of thy meadows my faithful heart prizes,
Thou queen of the west, the world's cushla ma chree.
There is a stone there,
That whoever kisses,
Oh! he never misses
To grow read more
There is a stone there,
That whoever kisses,
Oh! he never misses
To grow eloquent.
'Tis he may clamber
To a lady's chamber
Or become a member
Of Parliament.
Whether on the scaffold high
Or on the battle-field we die,
Oh, what matter, when for Erin read more
Whether on the scaffold high
Or on the battle-field we die,
Oh, what matter, when for Erin dear we fall.
Why should Ireland be treated as a geographical fragment of
England . . . Ireland is not a geographical read more
Why should Ireland be treated as a geographical fragment of
England . . . Ireland is not a geographical fragment, but a
nation.
Eternal is the fact that the human creature born in Ireland and
brought up in its air is Irish. read more
Eternal is the fact that the human creature born in Ireland and
brought up in its air is Irish. I have lived for twenty years in
Ireland and for seventy-two in England; but the twenty came first
and in Britain I am still a foreigner and shall die one.
If one could only teach the English how to talk, and the Irish
how to listen, society would be read more
If one could only teach the English how to talk, and the Irish
how to listen, society would be quite civilized.
We . . . are no petty people. We are one of the great stocks of
Burke; we are read more
We . . . are no petty people. We are one of the great stocks of
Burke; we are the people of Swift, the people of Emmet, the
people of Parnell. We have created most of the modern literature
of this country. We have created the best of its political
intelligence.
When law can stop the blades of grass from growing as they grow;
And when the leaves in Summer-time read more
When law can stop the blades of grass from growing as they grow;
And when the leaves in Summer-time their colour dare not show;
Then will I change the colour too, I wear in my caubeen;
But till that day, plaze God, I'll stick to wearin' o' the Green.
