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There's a dear little plant that grows in our Isle
'Twas Saint Patrick himself sure that set it
And the sun on his labour with pleasure did smile
And with dew from his eye often wet it
It shines through the bog through the brake through the mireland
And he call'd it the dear little Shamrock of Ireland
The dear little Shamrock the sweet little Shamrock
The dear little sweet little Shamrock of Ireland
That dear little plant still grows in our land
Fresh and fair as the daughters of Erin
Whose smiles can bewitch and whose eyes can command
In each climate they ever appear in
For they shine through the bog through the brake and the mireland
Just like their own dear little Shamrock of Ireland
The dear little Shamrock the sweet little Shamrock
The dear little sweet little Shamrock of Ireland
That dear little plant that springs from our soil
When its three little leaves are extended
Denotes from the stalk we together should toil
And ourselves by ourselves be befriended
And still through the bog through the brake and the mireland
From one root should branch like the Shamrock of Ireland
The dear little Shamrock the sweet little Shamrock
The dear little sweet little Shamrock of Ireland
