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Dear Shamrock of My Native Vale. 
Dear Shamrock of my native vale! 
What treasured memories throng around 
Of mountain, hill, and flowery dale, 
Of spreading mead, and storied mound, 
Of fragrant groves, when minstrelsy 
Of nature’s songsters thrills the gale 
As fondly, now, I gaze on thee, 
Dear Shamrock of my native vale! 
Again I view the laughing stream 
That glides my native cot before; 
Upon its banks I sit and dream 
The dreams of boyhood o’er and o’er; 
I join the headlong, careless throng 
In games made famous by the Gael, 
Each time I look, thy leaves among 
Dear Shamrock of my native vale! 
And father’s voice and mother s smile, 
And brothers , sisters, cherished dear, 
The friends whose words were free from guile 
The comrades true from year to year; 
Again I hear, again I see— 
