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Oh Ireland Out of the wind one misty night, fairyland gave birth to paradise and the angels named this beauty born of Celtic might, Ireland. Surrounded by roaring seas of gold, protected by the Cliffs of Mohr. Filled with valleys of rich green land, this place created by God's own hand. Oh Ireland I belong to your story, your tales of old your magnificent glory. Legends born from Eren's home, gallent clans of O'Connor and O'Mohr. Irish lore of dance and song, of Killkenny Castle and County Dublin, Children of Lir, Gaelic Lor, Magilligan Point and Kerry Rainbow. Great tragedies you have bore,from potato famines to Henry VIII's scorn. Ulster wars, Sinn Fein, reminders of a legacy carried from way back then. Stolen from the English shores, St. Patrick became yours. Leprechauns endear our hearts, your four leaf clovers our kept for luck. Ireland your smile and twinkling eye is woven into the tapestry of American life. Your music wakes the sleeping conscience, to life's injustice, to courage that surrounds us. |
Additional Notes:
I wrote this for the last St. Patrick's celebration and have revised for this site.
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