One day while walking down the lane as eight was drawing nigh,
I met a coleen with three flowers and she more young than I,
St. Patrick Bless you, dear, said I, if you'll be quick and tell
The place where you did find these flowers I seem to know so well
She took and kissed the first flower once and softly said to me
This flower came from the Wicklow hills dew-wet and pure said she.
It's name is Michael Dwyer, the strongest flower of all
And I'll keep it beside my breast tho all the world may fall.
She took and kissed the next flower twice and softly said to me
This flower I plucked in Antrim's hills, outside Belfast, said she
The name I give it is Wolfe Tone, the bravest flower of all
And I'll keep it fresh beside my breast tho all the world may fall.
She took and kissed the next flower thrice and soflty said to me
This flower I found in Thomas St., in Dublin's fair city
It's name is Robert Emmett, the youngest flower of all
And I'll keep it fresh beside my breast, tho all the world may fall.