Tom: Bb major
Verse 1
Bb
F
Gm
Bb
F
Bb
["St.
Day"]
There's a dear little plant
F
Bb
that grows in our isle.
For
St.
F
Bb
F
Patrick himself sure that said it.
C
F
Bb
An d the sun on his liver
F
Gm
with pleasure did smile,
F
Bb
F
And with dew from his eye often wetted.
Bb
C
F
It shines through the bog,
C
F
through the break and the mire land,
Bb
F
And he called it the dear
Ireland.
F
Bb
The dear little shamrock,
F
the sweet little shamrock,
Bb
Eb
The dear little sweet little sham
Bb
F
Bb
F
Bb
Eb
Bb
F
rock of our land.
Bb
The dear little plant still
F
Bb
grows in our land,
F
Bb
Fresh and fair as the daughters of
C
Erin,
F
Bb
Who whose smiles can bewitch and
F
Bb
whose eyes can command,
Gm
Bb
F
In each climate they
C
F
For they shine through the bog,
C
F
through the break and the mild land,
Bb
F
Just like their own dear
Bb
The dear little shamrock,
F
the sweet little shamrock,
Bb
Eb
The dear little sweet little sham
Bb
F
Bb
F
Bb
Eb
Bb
F
rock of our land.
F
Bb
that springs from our soil,
F
Bb
F
when its three little leaves are extended.
C
F
Bb
See, he knows from the stalk
Gm
Bb
an d ourselves by ourselves
Bb
Eb
Bb
C
F
And still through the bog,
C
F
through the break and the mild land
Bb
F
From one rock should run
Bb
The dear little shamrock,
F
the sweet little shamrock,
Bb
Eb
The dear little sweet little sham
Bb
F
Bb
F
Bb
rock of our land.
Eb
F
Bb
F
Bb
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AfinadorE A D G B E
AcordesBb F Gm C Eb
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