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bouncer
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I thought I'd pre-empt the Irish bashers this year with this little tale of how a tiny nation like Ireland helped build a great country like the United States of America..
Dad, why do they make such a production of St. Patrick's Day
When the Irish are really Johnny Come Latelys to the USA?
They didn't arrive until about eighteen forty-eight,
After Eire's potato crop failed and they had to emigrate.
They had no choice, it was leave home or die of starvation,
So they came in steerage by the thousands to our nation.
Son, obviously what your history books fail to say,
Is, the Irish have been around forever and a day.
When Columbus first landed on the shores of our land,
Patrick McGuire was the first to make footsteps on the sand.
And when you scan the roster of the Santa Maria's crew,
You find many, many more Gaelic names on that list too.
Half of the soldiers in the Colonial Army were born in Ireland,
Many Murphys, 230 O'Briens, 872 Kellys, were in Washington's command.
Eleven of his Generals had fighting Irish blood in their veins,
John Barry, our first Commodore controlled the sea lanes.
Washington himself belonged to the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick,
He knew the British and the Hessians, The Irish Brigade would lick.
Now, run your eye down the signers of the Declaration of Independence,
Thornton, Wilson, Taylor and Smith were born Irish, thanks to Providence.
McKean, Read and Rutledge were of pure Gaelic parentage,
Whipple and Hancock had Irish mothers, Lynch and Carroll, Celtic
lineage.
The first Continental Congress addressed Ireland in the year 1775,
To say that thanks to the help of the Gaels, America would survive.
An ancient leprechaun told me one soft summer day in Kildare,
That Paul Revere never would have made it without his fine mare.
She was an Irish hunter from Lismore by the.name of Shamrock,
With great stamina and grand conformation from withers to fetlock.
She hated tyranny, the Crown and the tangled webs they spun,
So she ran like a whistling wind from River Charles to Lexington.
So, Son, I see nothing wrong in a big celebration on March seventeen,
With all our nationalities, waving and wearing the green.
Let McNamara lead his band, let Clancy lower the boom,
Let the thunder of marching feet wake Cromwell in his tomb.
For if it wasn't for the help from across the Atlantic Sea,
America might not be the home of the brave and the land of the free.
Author Unknown
An early happy St.Patricks day guys.
Dad, why do they make such a production of St. Patrick's Day
When the Irish are really Johnny Come Latelys to the USA?
They didn't arrive until about eighteen forty-eight,
After Eire's potato crop failed and they had to emigrate.
They had no choice, it was leave home or die of starvation,
So they came in steerage by the thousands to our nation.
Son, obviously what your history books fail to say,
Is, the Irish have been around forever and a day.
When Columbus first landed on the shores of our land,
Patrick McGuire was the first to make footsteps on the sand.
And when you scan the roster of the Santa Maria's crew,
You find many, many more Gaelic names on that list too.
Half of the soldiers in the Colonial Army were born in Ireland,
Many Murphys, 230 O'Briens, 872 Kellys, were in Washington's command.
Eleven of his Generals had fighting Irish blood in their veins,
John Barry, our first Commodore controlled the sea lanes.
Washington himself belonged to the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick,
He knew the British and the Hessians, The Irish Brigade would lick.
Now, run your eye down the signers of the Declaration of Independence,
Thornton, Wilson, Taylor and Smith were born Irish, thanks to Providence.
McKean, Read and Rutledge were of pure Gaelic parentage,
Whipple and Hancock had Irish mothers, Lynch and Carroll, Celtic
lineage.
The first Continental Congress addressed Ireland in the year 1775,
To say that thanks to the help of the Gaels, America would survive.
An ancient leprechaun told me one soft summer day in Kildare,
That Paul Revere never would have made it without his fine mare.
She was an Irish hunter from Lismore by the.name of Shamrock,
With great stamina and grand conformation from withers to fetlock.
She hated tyranny, the Crown and the tangled webs they spun,
So she ran like a whistling wind from River Charles to Lexington.
So, Son, I see nothing wrong in a big celebration on March seventeen,
With all our nationalities, waving and wearing the green.
Let McNamara lead his band, let Clancy lower the boom,
Let the thunder of marching feet wake Cromwell in his tomb.
For if it wasn't for the help from across the Atlantic Sea,
America might not be the home of the brave and the land of the free.
Author Unknown
An early happy St.Patricks day guys.
