THE THREE FLOWERS
One time when walking down a lane
As night was drawing nigh
I met a colleen with three flowers
And she more young than I
"Saint Patrick bless you dear" I said
"If you'll be quick to tell
The place where you did find those flowers
I seem to know them well"
She took and kissed the first flower once
And sweetly said to me
"This flower comes from the Wicklow hills
Dew wet and pure", said she
"It's name is Michael Dwyer
The strongest flower of all
But I'll keep it fresh beside my breast
Though all the world should fall"
She took and kissed the first flower twice
And sweetly said to me
"This flower I culled in Antrim fields
outside Belfast", said she
"The name I call it is Wolfe Tone
The bravest flower of all
But I'll keep it fresh beside my breast
Though all the world should fall"
She took and kissed the first flower thrice
And softly said to me
"This flower I found in Thomas Street
In Dublin fair", said she
"Its name is Robert Emmet
The youngest flower of all
But I'll keep it fresh beside my breast
Though all the world should fall
Then Emmet,Dwyer and Tone I'll keep
For I do love them all
And I'll keep them fresh beside my breast
Though all the world should fall"
