Sure, after all the Winter,
An' after all the snow,
'T is fine to see the sunshine,
"T is fine to see its glow,
'T is fine to see the buds break,
On boughs that bare have been
But best of all to Irish eyes
'T is grand to see the green!
Sure, after all the winter,
An' after all the snow,
'T is fine to hear the brooks sing
As on the way they go;
'T is fine to hear at mornin'
The voice of robineen,
But of all to Irish eyes
'T is grand to see the green!
Sure, here in grim New England
The spring is always slow,
An' every bit o' green grass
Is kilt wid frost and snow;
Ah, many a heart is weary
The winter days, I ween
But oh, the joy when springtime comes
An' brings the blessed green!
Denis A. McCarthy
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