Poetry

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The Irish all around the world,
On Paddy’s Day their voice is heard
Singing songs of Ireland.
And many others wear the green
Though most of them have never seen
That fair and misty land.

Cruel emigration took its toll
On Ireland’s very heart and soul
Down through the centuries;
And so in nations ‘round the globe
Its descendants all proudly robe
In green for memories.

Now in my heart I’m truly glad,
(Though at this time I’m kind of sad)
For the songs of Ireland.
My heart is filled with green and gold;
I dwell upon the stories told
In the songs of Ireland.

I picture mountains tall and fair,
The purple heather blowing there,
And oh what joy it brings;
I see the shining lake below,
Beside it weeping willows grow;
My very heart now sings.

The meadow waving in the breeze,
The robins flitting in the trees
Oh there’s such beauty there!
Transported back on wings of song
To a place where I belong
A land so green and fair.

But in my heart I’m truly glad,
(Though at this time I’m kind of sad)
For the songs of Ireland.
My heart is filled with green and gold;
I dwell upon the stories told
In the songs of Ireland.

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