O[D] Paddy dear, and[Bm] did you hear the[A] news
that's going round?
The[G] Shamrock is for[D]bid, by laws, to[A] grow on
Irish[D] ground!
No[D] more St. Patrick's[Bm] day we'll keep his[A]
color last be seen;
For, there's a[G] bloody[D] law agin the[A] Wearing[A7]
of the[D] Green!
Oh! I met with Nabertancly, and he took me by the hand,
And he says: How is Poor Ould Ireland, and does she
stand?
She's the most distressed Country that ever I have
seen:
For, they are hanging men and women for the Wearing of
the Green!
And since the color we must wear, is England's cruel
red,
Ould Ireland's sons will ne'er forget the blood that
they have shed..
Then take the Shamrock from your hat, and cast it on
the sod:
It will take root, and flourish still, tho' under foot
'tis trod.
When the law can stop the blades of grass from growing
as they grow..
And when the leaves, in Summer time, their verdure does
not show..
Then, I will change the color I wear in my cabbeen:
But, till that day, plaze God! I'll stick to the
Wearing of the Green!
But if, at last, her colors should be torn from
Ireland's heart
Her sons, with shame and sorrow, from the dear old soil
will part;
I've heard whispers of a Country that lies far beyond
sea,
Where rich and poor stand equal, in the light of
Freedom's day!
O Erin! must we leave you driven by the tyrant's hand!
Must we ask a Mother's blessing, in a strange but happy
land,
Where the cruel Cross of England's thralldom never to
be seen:
But where, thank God! we'll live and die, still Wearing
of the Green!