Remember, Boy, You're Irish. '
Copyright, 1886, by T. B. Harms & Co.
Written, and sung by Wm. J. Scanlan, in his great drama, "Shane na Lawn."
Oh, how well do I remember when but a little boy,
Standing by my dear old mother's knee,
While the pearly tears of love, like dewdrops from above,
Would fill her eyes with joy and ecstasy;
And she'd take me in her arms and press me to her heart,
As only mother can do for her own,
While my flaxen hair she'd smooth, my boyish nerves to soothe,
She'd say to me, my boy, where'er you roam:
Remember, boy, you're Irish, born on Irish soil,
Your father was a Kenry, your mother was a Doyle;
Be an honor to your country, 'tis the land of heroes bold,
The land where the shamrock grows.
The fact that I am Irish, I never will deny,
I love my native country fresh and green;
Where the open-hearted laddie and pretty blue-eyed lass.
The wild flowers of her country may be seen;
The singing of her birds and sighing of her winds,
That echoes sweet her prayers and melody;
Be it in a lowly hut, or palace rich and grand,
To beggar, lord or prince I'd proudly say:-Chorus.
Soon the dear old harp of Erin from slumber will awake,
Its echoes sweet will peal throughout the land.
To show that still she lives in every home and clime.
Like treasured gems of love both true and grand;
Like the warmth and dew of Spring, which bring to life and strength
The flowers and blades from mother earth so dear,
So from silenced graves of woe, tears of joy will flow,
And then from every heart and tongue you'll hear:-Chorus.