Let the Statesman swarm like bees,
At Receptions and Levees,
And Diplomats the drawing-room adorn;
Let Patriots grow gray,
Fretting, fuming life away—
I'm contented with my Cruiskeen Lan.

Gra ma cree ma Cruiskeen,
Slanthe gal ma Vourneen,
Gra ma cree ma Cruiskeen Lan;
Gra ma cree ma Cruiskeen,
Slanthe gal ma Vourneen,
Gra ma cree ma Colleen ban, ban, ban,
Gra ma cree ma Colleen ban.

Let the Great love pomp and show,
And Life's pleasures all forego,
For Fame, that like a vapor soon is gone;
And sour old Cent-per-cent
Count his profits and his rents,—
I am richer with my Cruiskeen Lan.

Chorus.

Let him who great would be
Crook the hinges of the knee,
And on Senators and Secretaries fawn;
I cannot duck and bend,
But I'll always serve a friend,
And enjoy my little Cruiskeen Lan.

Chorus.

Let him who fain would thrive,
Usurious bai'gains drive,
And what he calls his soul, to Satan pawn,
I'll freely give and lend,
And the rest as freely spend,
And enjoy my darling Cruiskeen Lan.

Chorus.

Let the Fop exhale in sighs,
At the blaze of Beauty's eyes,
While her jewels reconcile him to her scorn;
The melted rubies shine
For us in generous wine,
And diamonds in our Cruiskeen Lan.
Chorus.

Let Plutus have his rout,
Where you're squeezed and knocked about,
And enjoy yourself immensely—in a horn;
Let the youthful and the gay
Enjoy the bal masque;
Give me a quiet Cruiskeen Lan.

Chorus.

Let the banker give his feeds,
Where the modest no man heeds,
And Parvenus on pompous Dullness fawn;
Give me a jollier set,
Of clever fellows met,
At a friend's to taste his Cruiskeen Lan.

Chorus.

For no contracts we've to give,
Nor any posts by which to live,
And politics we gayly laugh to scorn;
While like brothers here we stand,
Heart to heart, and hand in hand,
With our smiling little Cruiskeen Lan.

Chorus.

More dear than gold to me
Shall the recollection be
Of the glorious Attic nights that are gone,
When soul communed with soul,
As away the swift hours stole,
While we drank our smiling Cruiskeen Lan.

Chorus.

You may roam the world around
To old ocean's farthest bound;
Visit every land the sun looks down upon;
And fellows to compare
With our set you'll find nowhere,
When they meet to taste their Cruiskseen Lan.

Chorus.

At JOHNNY COYLE'S, egad!
Many a frolic we have had;
At HOOVER'S, WALLACH'S, BERRY'S seen the dawn;
At CHARLEY BOTELER'S, too,
You with me, and I with you,
Have enjoyed our smiling Cruiskeen Lan.

Chorus.

This evening with MCGUIRE,
Fun and frolic shall conspire
To dissipate the cares of daylight born;
And may we ne'er forget
That we here to-night were met,
To take a kindly Cruiskeen Lan.

Chorus.

Be friend to friend more dear;
Let estrangements disappear
As the mists that flit away before the morn;
Good-bye to jars and feud,
Let the old ties be renewed,
As once more we take our Chruiskeen Lan.

Chorus.