THE VALLEYS WHERE THE SHAMROCKS GROW by Charles Cashel Connolly
I.
There may be lands where dawning breaks,
In grandeur far surpassing;
There may be lands where broader lakes
Reflect the glory passing;
There may be lands of noons more bright,
And sunset scenes more glowing;
There may be lands where stars give light
On valleys greener growing; -
Yet, there is no land that man can know
Like the valleys where the Shamrocks grow.
II.
There may be lands of richer bloom,
And fields of greater treasure;
There may be lands where birds of plume
Give songs of sweeter measure;
There may be lands where harvest yields
More golden sheafs for gleaning;
There may be lands where the sickle wields
More potent force, and meaning; -
Yet, there is no land that man can know
Like the valleys where the Shamrocks grow.
III.
There may be lands where gracious wiles
Entice the heart to duty;
There may be lands where virtue smiles,
And maidens blush in beauty;
There may be lands of fairer scenes,
And temples high and holy;
There may be lands where homestead means
A sacred place, though lowly;
Yet, there is no land that man can know
Like the valleys where the Shamrocks grow.
IV.
There may be lands of prouder hills
And forests wilder growing;
There may be lands of clearer rills
And rivers deeper flowing;
There may be lands of brighter hopes
And many joys and dearer;
There may be lands where future opes
With promise fair and nearer;
Yet, there is no land that man can know
Like the valleys where the Shamrocks grow.
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