Ho gentlemen! lift your glasses up—
Each gallant, each swain and lover—
A kiss to the beads that brim in the cup
A laugh for the foam spilt over!
For the soul is a-lift and the heart beats high,
And care has unloosened its tether;
"Now drink," said the sage, "for tomorrow we die!"
So let's have a toast together.
Swing the goblet aloft; to the lips let it fall;
Then bend you the knee to address her;
And to drink gentle sirs, to the queen of us all—
To the Woman that's Good—God bless her!—
And I pledge my last toast, ere I go to my rest—
O fortunate earth to possess her!—
To the dear tender heart in the little white breast
Of the Woman that's Good—God bless her!
Here's to the girl that's good and sweet
Here's to the girl that's true,
Here's to the girl that rules my heart—
In other words, Here's to you.
Here's to the land of the shamrock so green,
Here's to each lad and his darling coleen
Here's to the ones we love dearest and most
And may God save old Ireland,—that's an Irishman's toast.