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There’s a prayer that’s prayed alone, and heard in dear Old Erin’s land,

‘Tis uttered on each threshold’s stone with loving smile and clasping hand,

And oft’ per chance ‘tis murmured low with sorrow, sigh and falling tear,

The grandest greeting man may know, the prayer ‘God Save All Here’.


In other lands they know not well how priceless is this holy love,

That hedges with the sacred spell – Old Irelands’ homes and cabin doors,

To those it is no empty sound who think with grief and many a tear,

Of long loved memories wreathing ‘round, this prayer ‘God Save All Here’.


Live on Oh sacred greeting still with peace to bless each threshold there,

The echoes of our homes to fill with fervency and holy prayer,

And guarded by each holy spell, the action soul and conscience free,

Be graven on each heart as well, the prayer ‘God Save All Here’.




St. Anne the mother of Mary,

And Mary the mother of Jesus,

St. Elizabeth the mother of St. John the Baptist,

These three lie between me,

And the harm of the night and the nightmare.



As I lay me down to sleep,

To God I give my soul to keep.

If I die before I wake,

To God I give my soul to take.



There are four corners to my bed,

There are four angels overhead.

Matthew, Mark, Luke and John,

God bless the bed that I lie on.



Heart of Patrick strong in prayer,

Heart of Brigid pure and fair,

Heart of Columcille the dove,

These three Irish hearts I love.