Crúiscín Lán Lyrics

Let the farmer praise his grounds,
Let the huntsman praise his hounds,
Let the shepherd praise his dewy scented lawn.
Oh, but I'm more wise than they,
Spend each happy night and day
With my darlin' little cruiscín lán, lán, lán,
My darlin' little cruiscín lán.
CHORUS (Each stanza)
Oh, gradh mo chroide mo cruiscín,
Slainte geal Mauverneen
Gradh mo chroide mo cruiscín, lán, lán, lán,
Oh, gradh mo chroide mo cruiscín lán.
Immortal and divine,
Great Bacchus, god of wine
Create me by adoption your own son,
In hopes that you'll comply,
That my glass shall ne'er run dry
Nor my darlin' little cruiscín lán, lán, lán,
My darlin' little cruiscín lán.
And when cruel Death appears,
In a few but happy years,
You'll say "Oh, won't you come along with me?"
I'll say, "Begone, you knave!
For King Bacchus gave me lave
To take another cruiscín lán, lán, lán,
To take another cruiscín lán.
Then fill your glasses high;
Let's not part with lips so dry,
For the lark now proclaims it is the dawn.
And since we can't remain,
May we shortly meet again
To fill another cruiscín lán, lán, lán,
To fill another cruiscín lán,