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)