Here's a little poem for St. Patrick's Day. I'm not Irish but I am always ready to celebrate something. I think I'll wear a green hat when I go out on my walk today.
There's a dear little plant that grows in our isle,
'Twas St Patrick himself, sure, that set it;
And the sun on his labor with pleasure did smile,
And with dew from his eye often wet it.
It thrives through the bog, through the brake, and the mireland;
And he called it the dear little shamrock of Ireland...