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THE IRISH SHAMROCK IN SOUTH AFRICA
O LITTLE plant, so meek and slight,
Tinct with the emerald of the sea
Which like a mother, day and night,
Croons melodies to thee;
Emblem of Erin's hope and pride!
Though crushed and trampled under foot,
Thou still art found
The meadows round,
Up-springing from thine own sweet root!
Of sorrow thou hast been the sign
Through weary, unforgiving years;
The dews upon thy tender vine
Have seemed thy country's tears;
Now, now, forevermore, thou art
Symbol of all that's brave and true—
Blest as a smile
Of thy sunlit isle,
In the Old World honored, and the New!
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