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, said I.
If you'll be quick to tell,
The place where you did find those flowers,
I seem to know so well.

She took a flower and kissed it once,
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 keep it fresh beside my breast,
Though all the wotld should fall.

She took a flower and kissed it twice,
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 greatest flower of all.
And I'll keep it fresh beside my breast,
Though all the wotld should fall.

She took a flower and kissed it thrice,
And softly said to me.
This flower comes from the Wicklow hills,
Its name is Dwyer said she.

And Emmet Tone and Dwyer,
For I do love them all,
And I keep them fresh beside by breast-
Though all the world should fall.

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Last modified Monday 18th September 2006

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