Through Erin's Isle <br />To sport awhile <br />As Love and Valour wander'd, <br />With Wit, the sprite, <br />Whose quiver bright <br />A thousand arrows squander'd; <br />Where'er they pass, <br />A triple grass <br />Shoots up, with dew-drops streaming, <br />As softly green <br />As emeralds seen <br />Through purest crystal gleaming. <br />Oh the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock! <br />Chosen leaf <br />Of Bard and Chief, <br />Old Erin's native Shamrock! <br /> <br />Says Valour, "See, <br />They spring for me, <br />Those leafy gems of morning!" -- <br />Says Love, "No, no, <br />For me they grow, <br />My fragrant path adorning." <br />But Wit perceives <br />The triple leaves, <br />And cries, "Oh! do not sever <br />A type that blends <br />Three godlike friends, <br />Love, Valour, Wit, for ever!" <br />Oh, the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock! <br />Chosen leaf, etc. <br /> <br />So firmly fond <br />May last the bond <br />They wove that morn together, <br />And ne'er may fall <br />One drop of gall <br />On Wit's celestial feather. <br />May Love, as twine <br />His flowers divine, <br />Of thorny falsehood weed 'em: <br />May Valour ne'er <br />His standard rear <br />Against the cause of Freedom! <br />Oh the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock! <br />Chosen leaf, etc.<br /><br />Thomas Moore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/oh-the-shamrock/
