OH THE SHAMROCK.

Thro’ Erin's Isle,

To sport awhile,

As Love and Valor wandered,

With Wit, the sprite,

Whose quiver bright

A thousand arrows squandered.

Where'er they pass,

A triple grass

Shoots up, with dew-drops streaming.

As softly green

As emeralds seen

Thro’ purest crystal gleaming.

Oh the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock!

Chosen leaf.

Of Bard and Chief,

Old Erin's native Shamrock!

Says Valor, “See,

“They spring for me,

“Those leafy gems of morning!” —

Says Love, “No, no,

“For me they grow,

“My fragrant path adorning.”

But Wit perceives

The triple leaves,

And cries, “Oh! do not sever

“A type, that blends

“Three godlike friends,

“Love, Valor, Wit, for ever!”

Oh the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock!

Chosen leaf

Of Bard and Chief,

Old Erin's native Shamrock!

So firmly fond

May last the bond,

They wove that morn together,

And ne'er may fall

One drop of gall

On Wit's celestial feather.

May Love, as twine

His flowers divine.

Of thorny falsehood weed‘ em;

May Valor ne'er

His standard rear

Against the cause of Freedom!

Oh the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock!

Chosen leaf

Of Bard and Chief,

Old Erin's native Shamrock!