The Shasta courier., 1869-06-26
The Exile and the Shamrock,

a belfast lady has received the following
from an Irish lady friend in Paris, on writ
ing tor sprig of shamrock to wear on the
great national festival:
Long ages since, descendant, or, as we
rather love to think, child of France sought,
or was directed to lone isle The sun that
shed his latest, lovliest rays behind the west
ern hills. throughout his long career round
earth's extent, had seen no spot so fair as
that on which the Saint set foot, and with
prophetic spirit knelt to kiss the sacred soil.
SO as te. be enriched with martyrs blood !
and, as it were, confounded with the ashes of
the Saints
But night was still ON those hills-that
darkest night which nought Lut Faith could
chase F! And how teach to that simple race
those truths sublime which loftier spirits
vainly seek to scan? Faith, Hope and Love
led on the Apostles steps to Tara's Hill.-
The chiefs and people there stood mute
around their King to list his words. All
words were vain to minds like these. The
people ask sign. The saint looked down
on the fresh sod, grown holier still beneath
his tread The Cross, implanted there. tow
cred high, as if to reach the Heavens; and
its base where stood of old the Loved and
Faithful Three, simple flower raised up its
slender stem, with triple crown of lovlest
green Children of Erin. be this flower the
sign We seek; spreading spontaneous DER
this lovliest spot on earth, decked bv the
hand of Him who rules on High, yet deigns
to spread the rich harvest only for His chill
dren's food, but clothes the earth on which
they tread with loveliest richest vest Be
this the sign ye seek, sign of the One yet
Triple Power that lives, and bids all Nature
live-still three in One-in 01e still Three
Not vainly spoke, the flower. No tongue
Of fire blazed oe'r it but the mute appeal
thrilled to each heart, which burned as 'twere
His voice, that erst at Emmauns spoke
Priests, people, chief and King bent down
in worship there, adored the Triple Power.
and from that hour our country's emblem
dear, the symbol of our love, our native
shamrock green! 'Tis worn above each
faithful brow on every true born heart one
day in each succeeding vear-that hallowed
day to faith and our Great Patron dear,
1t decks the PATRIOTS grave, the martyrs
brow! 1t mantles DER our country's harp,
whose tones subdued poured thr, ugh that
foliage green, have less Of earth in them
than Heaven.
To those we love, in distant land It's sped
an envoy dear !-drooping and faded though
1t comes, the tear that dims so oft the exile's
eye. swells to a torrent as it greets his view,
fall oe'r each well known leaf, that brighter,
lovlier blooms refreshed by that soft genial
shower, and will no favoring gale watt Ger
the western wave one tiniest branch to me !?
A little votaress in her cell mayhap shall bid
God speed it to this distant land, where no
hest hands upitted still at earliest dawn in
woke Heavens choicest blessings on her head.
Kind friends to old traditions true, will plant
it in the sacred shade of the old clnis.ers dim,
and tend it well in memory of the prst-
come whence thou wilt, dear shamrock.
come! Thy place is here, amid the exiles
from our native soil. and strangers, too, who
for their sake will greet thee well.