OH THE SHAMROCK!

I.

THROUGH ERIN's Isle,
To sport awhile,

As LOVE and VALOUR wander'd,
With WIT, the sprite,

Whose quiver bright
A thousand arrows squander'd ;
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 !

* Saint Patrick is said to have made use of that species of the trefoil, to which in Ireland we give the name of Shamrock, in explaining the doctrine of the Trinity to the pagan Irish. I do not know if there be any other reason for our adoption of this plant as a national emblem. HOPE, among the ancients, was sometimes represented as a beautiful child," standing upon tip-toes, and a trefoil or three-coloured grass in her hand."

II.

Says VALOUR, "See,

66

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 god-like friends,

"LOVE, VALOUR, WIT, for ever!"

Oh the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock! Chosen leaf

Of Bard and Chief,

Old ERIN's native Shamrock!

III.

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 shoot

His flowers and fruit,

Of thorny falsehood weed 'em!
May VALOUR 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!