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Sunday, February 21, 2010


From the singing of:
John McGoldrick, of County Clare
Joe Heaney, of County Galway

Composer Anonymous

There's a dear little isle
In the Western Ocean.
'Tis an island of purity,
Holy and grand.
It's name fills its daughters
And sons with emotion
When they are out on
A far distant strand.

'Tis Ireland, my country,
The birthplace of heroes,
The home of the patriot,
Warrior and sage,
Of bards and of chieftains,
Whose names live in story.
May they live forever
On history's page.

You once were a proud
And a glorious nation.
Your name and your fame
Were known all over the world.
But misfortune o'ercame you
And sad desolation.
Your emerald banner
In slavery lay unfurled.

They tortured your children.
They spoiled your green banner.
They tried to exterminate you
Long, long, long ago.
But the Irish are somehow
Like wild creeping flowers.
The faster you pluck them,
The quicker they seem to grow.

I love every blade
Of grass green on your mountain,
Every leaf on your tree,
And every rock on your strand.
I love your green valleys
And murmuring fountains.
I love you, a cushla,
My own dear native land,

My Ireland!


NOTE: "a cushla" is a Gaelic word meaning, "my pulse".

I learned this song by listening to "ONE AND ALL: THE BEST OF CHERISH THE LADIES", recorded by the group, CHERISH THE LADIES.

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