Under the emerald canopy, where whispers of folklore roam,
Lives the spirit of Ireland, in every heart and home.
With skies so vast and waters deep, a land of ancient pride,
The echoes of the Celtic past, in every tide abide.

The rolling hills of green embrace, the stories old and new,
From Dublin’s bustling streets to the cliffs with ocean view.
The laughter in the village pubs, the music’s lively strain,
Weaves a tapestry of joy, in sun and gentle rain.

In fields where sheep and cattle graze, beneath the morning mist,
The simple life of farmers, by nature’s hand is kissed.
The legends of the banshee’s wail, the leprechaun’s sly grin,
Fill the air with magic, where the fables all begin.

So raise a glass to Ireland, her beauty and her grace,
To the warmth of her people, and the charm of every place.
For in the heart of every isle, under the shamrock’s sway,
Lives a tale of love and life, that never fades away.