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THE SHAMROCK IN SOUTH AFRICA
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!
For they lie asleep in a land of strangers,
Far from the home their fame endears—
The Inniskillings, the Connaught Rangers,
The Dublin Fusiliers;
And the little plant they loved so well—
Better than fairest flower that blows—
Is set apart
In Britannia's heart
With the Scottish thistle and the rose:
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