The grass flows down into meadows like a stream of Emeralds. It shimmers in the early morning mist as the sun breaks through the fog. The dew glistens like Diamonds on the trees and the flowers that open up to meet the new day. In echoes off of the side of high mountains you can hear the sweet serenade of many an Irish maid. With voices that could make an angel cry, they sing songs of life and laughter. Embracing the old land as they walk barefoot over the cool earth on their way to what ever task is at hand. Such is the heart of the old people who were born on the Emerald Isle. Such is the love in the heart of Ireland.