Ballad Fourth -


How sweet is our youth, when Love lights up each feature,
And sweet are the spring-birds that sing in each grove,
And sweet are the roses when blooming — but sweeter
The shamrock presented by hands that we love
Oh, bright's the plant at close of even,
When it is with smile approving,
By some blushing maiden given
To the youth that's true in loving.


How delicious is Hope, but, alas! it is fleeter
Than wild-wreathed garlands in summer-time wove;
But the shamrock's pure green grows still brighter and sweeter,
When given all glowing from hands that we love.
Oh, bright's the plant, &c.


Oh, my love gave a shamrock, and each youthful features
In bright beaming smiles seem'd eternally wove;
Many moments in life are our sweet ones — but sweeter
The moment the bosom first wakens to love
Oh, bright's the plant, &c.
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