There’s a sweet little spot away down by Cape Clear,
Sure it’s Ireland herself, to all Irishmen dear ;
Where the white praties blossom like illigant flowers,
And the wild birds sing sweetly above the round towers;
And the dear little shamrock that none can withstand,
Is the beautiful emblem of old Ireland.

In his hat good St. Patrick used always to wear
The shamrock whenever he went to a fair ;
And Nebuchadnezzar, no doubt highly prized
A bit of the blossom when he went disguised ;
For the bosom of beauty itself might expand,
When bedecked by the shamrock of old Ireland.

When far, far away, a sweet blossom I’ve seen,
I’ve dreamt of shillelaghs and shamrocks so green,
That grow like two twins, on the bogs and the hills,
With a drop in my eye, that with joy my heart fills ;
And I’ve blessed the dear sod from a far distant strand,
And the beautiful shamrock of old Ireland.

Most of the songs which mention the Shamrock were written by people who left Ireland and are nostalgic.