May your blessings outnumber
The shamrocks that grow,
And may trouble avoid you
Wherever you go.
Oh, Paddy, dear, an' did ye hear the news that's goin' round?
The shamrock is forbid by law to grow on Irish ground!
No more St. Patrick's Day we'll keep, his colour can't be seen,
For there's a cruel law agin' the Wearin' o' the green.
When Irish eyes are smiling,
'Tis like a morn in spring.
With a lilt of Irish laughter
You can hear the angels sing.
Oh! St. Patrick was a gentleman
Who came of decent people;
He built a church in Dublin town,
And on it put a steeple.
The list of Irish saints is past counting; but in it all no other figure is so human, friendly, and lovable as St. Patrick - who was an Irishman only by adoption. ~Stephen Gwynn