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I'll Wear a Shamrock by Mary Carolyn Davies St. Patrick's Day poem

St. Patrick's day is with us,
The day when all that's seen
To right and left and everywhere
Is green, greeen, green!

And Irish tunes they whistle
And Irish songs they sing,
Today each Irish lad walks out
As proud as any king.

I'll wear a four-leaf shamrock
In my coat, the glad day through,
For my father and mother are Irish
And I am Irish too!

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St. Patrick's Day Poems

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St. Patrick came from Ireland

The Birth of Saint Patrick by Samuel Lover

I'll Wear a Shamrock by Mary Carolyn Davies

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The Birth of Saint Patrick by Samuel Lover - poem

On the eighth day of March it was, some people say,
That Saint Patrick at midnight he first saw the day;
While others declare 'twas the ninth he was born,
And 'twas all a mistake between midnight and morn;
For mistakes will occur in a hurry and shock,
And some blam'd the baby—and some blam'd the clock—
Till with all their cross-questions sure no one could know,
If the child was too fast—or the clock was too slow.

Now the first faction fight in old Ireland, they say,
Was all on account of Saint Patrick's birthday,
Some fought for the eighth—for the ninth more would die.
And who wouldn't see right, sure they blacken'd his eye!
At last, both the factions so positive grew,
That each kept a birthday, so Pat then had two,
Till Father Mulcahy, who showed them their sins,
Said, "No one could have two birthdays but a twins."

Says he, "Boys, don't be fightin' for eight or for nine,
Don't be always dividin'—but sometimes combine;
Combine eight with nine, and seventeen is the mark,
So let that be his birthday."—"Amen," says the clerk.
"If he wasn't a twins, sure our hist'ry will show—
That, at least, he's worth any two saints that we know!"
Then they all got blind drunk—which complated their bliss,
And we keep up the practice from that day to this.