The Wearing Of The Green

Oh! Paddy, dear, and did you hear

The news that's goin' round,

The shamrock is by law forbid

To grow on Irish ground.

Saint Patrick's Day no more we'll keep

His colours can't be seen

For they're hanging men and women

For the wearing of the green.

I met with Napper Tandy

And he took me by the hand

He said "How's dear old Ireland?

And how does she stand?"

"She's the most distressful country

That you have ever seen,

For they're hanging men and women there

For the wearing of the green".

For the wearing of the green

For the wearing of the green

They're hanging men and women

For the wearing of the green.

Then since the colour we must wear

Is England's cruel red

Sure Ireland's sons will n'er forget

The blood that they have shed.

You may take the shamrock from your hat

And cast it on the sod,

But 'twill take root and flourish still

Tho' underfoot 'tis trod.

My father loved his country

And sleeps within its breast

While I that would have died for her

Must never soul be blessed

Those tears my mother shed for me

How bitter they had been

If I had proved the traitor to

The wearing of the green

For the wearing of the green

For the wearing of the green

They're hanging men and women

For the wearing of the green.

But if at last our colour should

Be torn from Ireland's heart,

Her sons with shame and sorrow

From the dear old isle will part.

I've heard a whisper of a land

That lies beyond the sea,

Where rich and poor stand equal

In the light of freedom's day.

Oh, Ireland! Must we leave you,

Driven by a tyrant's hand?

And seek a mother's blessing

From a strange and distant land?

Where the cruel cross of England

Shall never more be seen

And in that land we'll live and die

Still wearing Ireland's green.

For the wearing of the green

For the wearing of the green

They're hanging men and women

For the wearing of the green.

For the wearing of the green

For the wearing of the green

They're hanging men and women

For the wearing of the green.