ST. PATRICK’S DAY

New Zealand Tablet, 10 March 1921, Page 17

ST. PATRICK’S DAY

Once more from our valleys and purple-robed mountains . " Uprises the hymn of the nation to God; : di '; By our broad-flowing rivers, our tree-shaded fountains, We pluck the fair shamrock from Erin’s green sod. Though trampled and crushed by the tempests of years, We have kept it still fresh by our fast-flowing tears. Long ages have passed since thq saint’s lips beseeching Brought down by this emblem the truth from abqve, And still we may learn from the triune leaf’s teaching Of the strength that is founded on faith, truth, and love. . - Place it? high on each brow—-never monarch could wear Nobler crown than that emerald symbol we bear. A See, earth dawns in beauty, the strong Spring is breaking The bondage of Winter that held her in thrall— Shall the spirit of man not awake with that waking, And fling off its fetters at liberty’s call? Shall the lip faintly falter to utter the vow When the symbol of nationhood rests on the brow? It has memories— shamrock; now brightly, now sadly, - i Fair women have wreathed it entwined in their hair, And heroes have gone to meet death, pressing madly Their lips to its leaves in the kiss of despair; While the sad-hearted exiles have pined, though in vain, To behold it once more on their loved native plain. But to-day they will pledge us, our brothers, still bear- - ing From ocean to ocean the one sacred sign; And millions will join with our millions in swearing Round the great tree of freedom the shamrock shall twine. We have given of our life-blood to nourish the root— Shall we fear now, or tfemble, to gather the fruit? f m Too long we have mourned, supplicated, and waited In robes of the victim or shroud of the dead; And the shamrock that grew ’neath the scaffold was fated To bear the red stain of each sad heart that bled. : But a new strength has come, and with pride as a queen Shall our Ireland be crowned with her chaplet of green !

We have uttered the word; oh! the nation is shaken, While from forests and deserts of far-distant lands Freedom’s' voice goeth forth, and the millions awaken With the shamrock-wreathed banner upraised in their hands : ’ • ' - < • For man’s right in God’s sight we plead not in vain ; Behold ! Ireland was dead— she liveth again ! Lady Wilde.