To Ireland

Fond nature adorned her
For it could do no more,
And the wide world all over
Praise Erins fair shore

Though her sons they are scattered
Through many a clime,
But the fame of their valour
Stands immortal in time

It's the land of fair valleys,
Tall mountains and springs,
Through her groves and her woodlands
Wild songster there sings

It's the land of fair flowers
The violets of blue
The primrose and daisies
Of different hue.

It's the land of fair maidens
Of beauty and style,
And woe to the wretch
That would one beguile.