Saint Patrick's day

[kavery]

The Green Little Shamrock of Ireland
by Andrew Cherry (1762-1812)

There's a dear little plant that grows in our isle
'Twas Saint Patrick himself sure that set it
And the sun on his labor with pleasure did smile
And a tear from his eyes oft-times wet it
It thrives through the bog, through the brake, through the mireland;
And they call 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 still grows in our land,
Fresh and fair as the daughter of Erin,
Whose smiles can bewitch, whose eyes can command,
In each climate that they may appear in;
And shine through the bog, through the brake, and the mireland;
Just like their own 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 our soil,
When its three little leaves are extended,
Denotes on one stalk we together should toil,
And ourselves by ourselves be befriended;
It still through the bog, through the brake, through the mireland;
From one should branch, like the shamrock of Irland/
The sweet little shamrock, the dear little shamrock,
The sweet little, green little, shamrock of Ireland!