‘The Dear Little Shamrock of Ireland’by John William Cherry

‘The Dear Little Shamrock of Ireland’ by John William Cherry There’s a dear little plant that grows on our isle. ‘Twas St. Patrick himself that sure set it; and the sun on his labour with pleasure did smile, and with dew from his eye often wet it. It shines thro’ the bog. Thro’ the brake […]

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‘The Dear Little Shamrock of Ireland’by John William Cherry

‘The Dear Little Shamrock of Ireland’ by John William Cherry There’s a dear little plant that grows on our isle. ‘Twas St. Patrick himself that sure set it; and the sun on his labour with pleasure did smile, and with dew from his eye often wet it. It shines thro’ the bog. Thro’ the brake […]

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‘The Dear Little Shamrock of Ireland’by John William Cherry

‘The Dear Little Shamrock of Ireland’ by John William Cherry There’s a dear little plant that grows on our isle. ‘Twas St. Patrick himself that sure set it; and the sun on his labour with pleasure did smile, and with dew from his eye often wet it. It shines thro’ the bog. Thro’ the brake […]

Read More

‘The Dear Little Shamrock of Ireland’by John William Cherry

‘The Dear Little Shamrock of Ireland’ by John William Cherry There’s a dear little plant that grows on our isle. ‘Twas St. Patrick himself that sure set it; and the sun on his labour with pleasure did smile, and with dew from his eye often wet it. It shines thro’ the bog. Thro’ the brake […]

Read More

‘The Dear Little Shamrock of Ireland’by John William Cherry

‘The Dear Little Shamrock of Ireland’ by John William Cherry There’s a dear little plant that grows on our isle. ‘Twas St. Patrick himself that sure set it; and the sun on his labour with pleasure did smile, and with dew from his eye often wet it. It shines thro’ the bog. Thro’ the brake […]

Read More

‘The Dear Little Shamrock of Ireland’ by John William Cherry

‘The Dear Little Shamrock of Ireland’ by John William Cherry There’s a dear little plant that grows on our isle. ‘Twas St. Patrick himself that sure set it; and the sun on his labour with pleasure did smile, and with dew from his eye often wet it. It shines thro’ the bog. Thro’ the brake […]

Read More