I love green fertile Ireland,
The fairest spot on earth,
Where many a happy day I spent
And felt the bliss of sweet content,
Around the cheerful hearth.
I love to sing of Ireland--
Tho' rude my humble lays--
Home of my heart's affections, where
Unknown to misery and care
I've spent my early days.
The verdant vales of Ireland
Are beautifully fair--
The flowery mead, the stream, the grove
Where warblers sing their songs of love,
And sweets perfume the air,
There still are homes in Ireland
Where peace and joy are found--
Where honest toil is blest with health,
Contentment, luxury and wealth--
Where pleasure-sweets abound.
The lovely girls of Ireland
Are virtuous and fair,
And Irishmen have always shown
That they are brave, and few, or none,
We can with them compare.
Some people slight old Ireland,
But, ah! they little know,
The strange commixture of the parts
Which warm or chill the Irish hearts
In pleasure or in woe.
Despised, neglected Ireland,
No matter where I roam,
I'll try by deeds and words to prove
The fervour of my heartfelt love
For thee, my native home.
