Ireland, A Tribute

Poems from Ireland

This is a collection of my favorite poems from or about Ireland.

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  • My all time favorite poem from Ireland is:

    It's easy to be pleasant
    When life flows by like a song.
    But the man worthwhile is the one who can smile
    When everything goes dead wrong.
    For the test of the heart is trouble,
    And it always comes with years.
    And the smile that is worth the praises of earth
    Is the smile that shines through the tears.


    Gaelic Prayer
    Deep peace of running waves to you.
    Deep peace of flowing air to you.
    Deep peace of the smiling stars to you.
    Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
    Deep peace of the watching shepherds to you.
    Deep peace of the Son of Peace to you.


    If ever I'm a money'd man, I mean, please God, to cast
    My golden anchor in the place Where youthful years were pass'd
    Though heads that bow are black and brown must meanwhile gather grey
    New faces rise by every hearth, and old ones drop away-
    Yet dearer still that Irish hill than all the world beside;
    It's home, sweet home, where'er I roam, through lands and waters wide.
    And if the Lord allows me, I surely will return
    To my native Ballyshannon, And the winding banks of Erne.
    William Allingham, Irish poet (1824-1889)


    I will arise and go now, for always night and day
    I hear the lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
    While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
    I hear it in the deep heart's core.
    W.B. Yeats, Irish writer and statesman (1865-1939)


    May the leprechauns be near you,
    To spread luck along your way.
    And may all the Irish angels
    Smile on you St. Patrick's Day.


    St. Brigid's Blessing
    God bless the poor,
    God bless the sick,
    God bless our human race;
    God bless our food,
    God bless our drink
    And our homes,
    O God, embrace.
    St. Brigid of Kildare, 6th-century Irish cleric


    The savage loves his native shore,
    Though rude the soil and chill the air;
    Well then may Erin's sons adore
    Their isle, which nature formed so fair!
    What flood reflects a shore so sweet,
    As Shannon great, or past'ral Bann?
    Or who a friend or foe can meet,
    As generous as an Irishman?
    James Orr, Irish poet (1770-1816)


    I am of Ireland
    And of the holy of Ireland
    Good sir I pray of ye
    For saintly charity
    Come dance with me
    In Ireland.
    Anonymous 14th-century Irish Poet


    Ireland, it's the one place on Earth that heaven has kissed
    With melody, mirth, and meadow and mist.


    May your heart be warm and happy
    With the lilt of Irish laughter
    Every day in every way
    And forever and ever after.


    When Erin first rose from the dark swelling flood
    God Bless'd the Emerald Isle, and saw it was good;
    The em'rald of Europe, it sparkled and shone-
    In the ring of the world, the most precious stone.
    William Drennan, Irish poet (1754-1820)


    Now sweetly lies old Ireland,
    Emerald green beyond the foam,
    Awakening sweet memories,
    Calling the heart back home.


    Eire
    Where the wind has a sound like a sweet song,
    And anyone can hum it,
    And the heather grows upon the hills
    And shamrocks not far from it.


    When Irish eyes are smiling,
    Sure it's like a morning spring.
    In the lilt of Irish laughter
    You can hear the angels sing.
    When Irish hearts are happy,
    All the world seems bright and gay.
    And when Irish eyes are smiling
    They'll steal your heart away!
    Traditional Irish Folk Song


    St. Patrick's Breast Plate
    Christ be with me, Christ be within me,
    Christ behind me, Christ before me,
    Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
    Christ to comfort me, Christ above me,
    Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
    Christ in hearts of all that love me
    Christ in mouth of friend ans stranger.
    St. Patrick, 5th-century Irish cleric


    The pillar towers of Ireland,
    how wondrously they stand
    By the lakes and rushing rivers
    through the valleys of our land
    In mystic file, through the isle,
    they lift their heads sublime,
    These gray old pillar temples,
    These conquerors of time!
    Denis McCarthy, Irish poet (1817-1882)


    May your thoughts be as glad as the shamrocks.
    May your heart be as light as a song.
    May each day bring you bright happy hours,
    That stay with you all year long.
    For each petal on the shamrock
    This brings a wish your way-
    Good health, good luck ans happiness
    For today and everyday.


    May the Irish Hills caress you.
    May her lakes and rivers bless you.
    May the luck of the Irish enfold you.
    May the blessings of St. Patrick behold you.


    An old Irish recipe for longevity:
    Leave the table hungry;
    Leave the bed sleepy;
    Leave the table thirsty.


    May the luck of the Irish be always at hand,
    And good friends always near you.
    May each and every coming day
    Bring some special joy to cheer you.


    A fruitful clime is Eire's,
    through valley, meadow, plain,
    And in the fair land of Eire, O!
    The very 'bread of life' is in the yellow grain
    On the fair Hills of Eire, O!
    Far dearer to me than the tones music yields,
    Is the lowing of the kine and the calves in her fields
    And the sunlight that shone long ago on the shields
    Of the Gaels, on the fair hills of Eire, O!
    James Clarence Mangan, Irish poet (1803-1849)


    Hills as green as Emeralds cover the countryside,
    Lakes as blue as Sapphires are Ireland's special pride,
    And rivers that shine like silver make Ireland look so fair-
    But the friendliness of her people is the richest treasure there.


    Were you ever in Tipperary, where the fields are so sunny and green.
    And the heath-brown Slieve-bloom and the Galtees look down with so proud a mien?
    'Tis there you would see more beauty than is on all Irish ground-
    God bless you, my sweet Tipperary, for where could your match be found?
    Mary Kelly, Irish poet (1825-1910)


    May the saints protect ye-
    An' sorrow neglect ye,
    An' bad luck to the one
    That doesn't respect ye!
    T' all that belong to ye,
    an long life t' yer honor-
    That's the end of my song t' ye!


    May Ireland's voice be heard,
    Amid the world's applause!
    And never be her flag-staff stirred
    But in an honest cause!
    Thomas Davis, Irish poet (1814-1845)


    May your blessings outnumber the Shamrocks that grow,
    And may trouble avoid you wherever you go.


    When the first light of sun-
    Bless you.
    When the long day is done-
    Bless you.
    In your smiles and your tears-
    Bless you.
    Through each day of your years-
    Bless you.


    May you always have these blessings...
    A soft breeze when summer comes,
    A warm fireside in winter
    And always the warm, soft smile of a friend.


    Lov'd land of the bards and saints! To me
    There's naught so dear as thy minstrelsy;
    Bright is Nature's every dress,
    Rich in unborrowed loveliness;
    Winning is every shape she wears,
    Winning is she in thy own sweet airs...
    Thomas Furlong, Irish poet (1794-1827)


    There's a dear little plant that grows in our isle
    'Twas Saint Patrick himself sure that set it
    And the sun on his labor with pleasure did smile
    And a tear from his eyes oft-time wet it
    It grows through the bog, through the brake, through the mireland
    And they call it the dear little Shamrock of Ireland
    Traditional Irish Folk Song


    No! no land doth rank above thee
    Or for loveliness or worth
    So shall I, from this day forth,
    Ever sing and love thee.
    James Clarence Mangan, Irish poet (1803-1849)


    May the raindrops fall lightly on your brow;
    May the soft winds freshen your spirit;
    May the sunshine brighten your heart;
    May the burdens of the day rest lightly upon you;
    And may God enfold you in the mantle of His love.


    May your glass be ever full.
    May the roof over your head be always strong.
    And may you be in heaven half an hour
    Before the Devil knows your dead.


    May you live as long as you want,
    And never want as long as you live.


    May there always be work for your hands to do,
    May your purse always hold a coin or two.
    May the sun always shine warm on your windowpane,
    May a rainbow be certain to follow each rain.
    May the hand of a friend always be near you,
    And may God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.


    Health and a long life to you.
    Land without rent to you.
    A child every year to you.
    And if you can't go to heaven,
    May you at least die in Ireland.


    There is not in the wide worls a valley so swett
    As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet;
    Oh! the last rays of feeling and life must depart,
    Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart.
    Thomas Moore, Irish songwriter (1779-1852)


    May you live long,
    Die happy,
    And rate a mansion in heaven.


    May your troubles be less
    And your blessings be more.
    And nothing but happiness,
    Come through your door.


    May you be poor in misfortune,
    Rich in blessings,
    Slow to make enemies,
    And quick to make friends.
    But rich or poor, quick or slow,
    May you know nothing but happiness
    From this day forward.


    May your right hand always be stretched out in friendship
    And never in want.


    May you have food and raiment,
    A soft pillow for your head;
    May you be forty years in heaven
    Before the devil knows you're dead.


    May the roof above us never fall in,
    And may the firends gathered below it never fall out.


    May there be a generation of children
    On the children of your children.


    O dim delicious heaven of dreams-
    The land of boyhood's dewey glow-
    Again I hear your torrent streams
    Through purple gorge and valley flow,
    Whilst fresh the mountian breezes blow.
    Above the air smites sharp and clear-
    The silent lucid spring it chills
    But underneath, move warm amidst
    The bases of the hills.
    Joh O'Donnell, Irish poet (1837-1874)


    May your neighbors respect you,
    Trouble neglect you,
    The angels protect you,
    And heaven accept you.


    Bless you and yours
    As well as the cottage you live in.
    May the roof overhead be well thatched
    And those inside be well matched.


    May your troubles be less
    And your blessings be more.
    And nothing but happiness
    Come through your door.


    May joy and peace surround you,
    Contentment latch your door,
    And happiness be with you now
    And bless you evermore.


    May your home be filled with laughter,
    May your pockets be filled with gold
    And may you have all the happiness
    Your Irish heart can hold.


    A Blessing for You and Yours
    May the grace of God's protection
    And His great love abide
    Within you home and within your hearts
    Of all who dwell inside.


    Walls for the wind
    And a roof for the rain,
    And drinks by the fire.
    Laughterto cheer you
    And those you love near you
    And all that your heart may desire!


    Bless the four corners of this house,
    And be the lintel blessed,
    Bless the hearth,
    And bless the board,
    And bless each place of rest.
    And bless the door that opens to strangers as to kin,
    And bless each shining window
    That lets the sunlight in.
    Bless the oak tree overhead,
    Bless each sturdy wall,
    And may the peace of God above be always on us all.


    May your home always be too small to hold all of your friends.


    May those who love us, love us.
    Ans those who don't love us,
    May God turn their hearts.
    And if he doesn't turn their hearts,
    May he turn their ankles,
    So we may know them by their limping!


    Calm be thy sleep as infants' slumbers!
    Pure as angel thoughts thy dreams!
    May ever joy this bright world numbers
    Shed o'er thee their mingled beams!
    Thomas Moore, Irish songwriter (1779-1852)


    In December weather, grey and grim,
    In December twilight, keen and cold,
    Stood the farmhouse on the green-reached hill
    Piled with tatched rooves, mellowed into gold...
    John O'Donnell, Irish poet (1837-1874)


    I've wandered by the rolling Lee!
    And Lene's green bowers-
    I've seen the Shannon's wide-spread sea,
    And Limerick's towers-
    And Liffey's tide, where halls of pride
    Frown o'er the flood below...
    Edward Walsh, Irish poet (1805-1850)


    May the blessings of each day
    Be the blessings you need most.


    May the road rise to meet you.
    May the wind be always at your back.
    May the sun shine warm upon your face.
    And rains fall soft upon your fields.
    And until we meet again,
    May God hold you in the hollow of His hand.


    May the blessings of light be upon you.
    Light without and light within.
    And in all your comings and goings,
    May you ever have kindly greeting
    From them you meet along the road.


    Wherever you go and whatever you do,
    May the luck of the Irish be there with you.


    May you have warm words on a cold evening,
    A full moon on a dark night,
    And the raod downhill all the way to your door.


    May the good saints protect you
    And bless you today
    And may troubles ignore you
    Each step of the way


    May good luck be your friend, in whatever you do,
    And may trouble be always a stranger to you.


    Lucky stars above you, sunshine on your way,
    Many friends to love you, joy in work and play,
    Laughter to outweigh each care, in your heart a song,
    And gladness waiting everywhere all your whole life long!


    May the lilt of Irish laughter lighten every load,
    May the mist of Irish magic shorten every road,
    May you taste the sweetest pleasures that fortune e're bestowed,
    And may all your friends remember all the favors you are owed.


    She is a rich and rare land,
    Oh, sh'es a fresh and fair land;
    She is a dear and rare land,
    this native land of mine.
    Thomas Davis, Irish poet (1814-1845)


    May the love and protection Saint Patrick can give
    Be yours in abundance as long as you live.


    May you have all the happiness and luck that life can hold-
    And at the end of all your rainbows may you find a pot of gold.


    May St. Patrick guard you wherever you go and guide you in whatever you do-
    and may his loving protection be a blessing to you always.


    May you have the hindsight to know where you've been,
    The foresight to know where you're going,
    And the insight to know when you're going too far!


    May you always have a clean shirt, a clean conscience, and a guinea in your pocket!


    May the luck of the Irish possess you;
    May the Devil fly off with your worries;
    May God bless you forever and ever.


    Throughout my journey I did not meet
    Another country like the land of O'Neill;
    The varigated hillsides bright with dew
    The sunny smooth meadows crossed by roads.
    Padraigin Haicead, 17th-century Irish poet


    May the Good Lord take a liking to you,
    ...but not too soon!


    May the saddest day of your future be no worse than the happiest day of your past.


    Always remember to forget the troubles that passed away
    But never forget to remember the blessings that come each day