Three Flowers - Brian Moore

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 said I

«If you be quick to tell

The place where you did find these flowers

I seem to know so well»

She took and kissed a flower once

And softly said to me

«This flower comes from the Antrim hills

outside Belfast», said she

«The name I call it is Wolfe Tone

The bravest flower of all

And I’ll keep it fresh beside my breast

Though all the world should fall»

She took and kissed the next flower twice

And gently said to me

«This flower comes from the Wicklow hills

Its name is Dwyer», said she

«And Emmet, Tone and Dwyer I’ll keep

For I do love them all

And I’ll keep them fresh beside my breast

Though all the world should fall»

She took the next flower and kissed it thrice

And softly said to me

«This flower I found in Thomas Street

In Dublin fair», said she

«Its name is Robert Emmet

It’s the youngest flower of all

And I’ll keep it fresh beside my breast

Though all the world should fall»

So Emmet, Tone and Dwyer I’ll keep

As I do love them all

And I’ll keep them fresh beside my breast

Though all the world should fall