It's the Emerald Isle is the beautiful land: There's nothing too good for the Irish. O'er the whole of it, Nature, at heaven's command, Has scattered her charms with a prodigal hand
From Skibbereen town to the Donegal strand; For there's nothing too good for the Irish. And it's many a hero the Irish can claim: There's nothing too good for the Irish.
“Red Hugh” put his country's invaders to shame; Owen Roe was a fighter they never could tame; As a nation the Irish have glory and fame; For there's nothing too good for the Irish.
And the Irish are noted for piety, too: There's nothing too good for the Irish. In the far-away time before Brian Boru, The faith by Saint Patrick was planted and grew,
And the “Island of Saints” has had saints not a few: For there's nothing too good for the Irish. And the best of all orators Irishmen are: There's nothing too good for the Irish.
The voice of Columba was heard from afar, Burke's eloquence rolled like a conquering car, And the name of O'Connell' s a radiant star; For there's nothing too good for the Irish.
And the Irishman always is witty, of course; There's nothing too good for the Irish. And his wit is as genial and kind as its source; It never leaves anyone feeling the worse;
He makes bulls, but a good Irish bull's a white horse; For there's nothing too good for the Irish. You are thinking, no doubt, to the race I belong: There's nothing too good for the Irish.
You think I am Irish, but that's where you're wrong; I am Scotch, but our love for the Irish is strong; We gave them a saint and we'll give them a song; For there's nothing too good for the Irish.
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