Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE CRUISKEEN LAWN by ANONYMOUS

First Line: LET THE FARMER PRAISE HIS GROUNDS
Last Line: "TO FILL ANOTHER CRUISKEEN LAWN, ETC."
Subject(s): DRINKS & DRINKING;
LET the farmer praise his grounds,
Let the huntsman praise his hounds,
The shepherd his dew-scented lawn;
But I, more blest than they,
Spend each happy night and day
With my charming little cruiskeen lawn, lawn, lawn,
My charming little cruiskeen lawn.
Gra ma chree ma cruiskeen,
Slainte geal mavourneen,
's gra machree a cooleen bawn.
Gra machree ma cruiskeen,
Slainte geal mavourneen,
Gra machree a cooleen bawn, bawn, bawn,
's gra machree a cooleen bawn.

Immortal and divine,
Great Bacchus, god of wine,
Create me by adoption your son;
In hope that you'll comply
My glass shall ne'er run dry,
Nor my smiling little cruiskeen lawn, etc.

And when grim death appears,
In a few but pleasant years,
To tell me that my glass has run;
I'll say, Begone, you knave,
For bold Bacchus gave me leave,
To take another cruiskeen lawn, etc.

Then fill your glasses high,
Let's not part with lips a-dry,
Though the lark now proclaims it is dawn;
And since we can't remain,
May we shortly meet again,
To fill another cruiskeen lawn, etc.



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