The Shamrock of Ireland

There’s a dear little plant
that grows in our isle,
‘Twas St. 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 thrives through the bog,
through the brake,
through the mireland;
And he called it the dear
little shamrock of Ireland—
The sweet little shamrock,
the dear little shamrock,
The sweet little, green little,
shamrock of Ireland!
Andrew Cherry, Irish Playwright (1762-1812)