Classic Poem

Di-haal-lum, di-haal-lum, di-i'il-i'il hanndan,
Di-dir-ir-i-hal-hi'il-lum, di-dir-ir-i-hal-haoi-rum;
Di-i'il-i'il-hal-dir-ir-i, ha-ri-ha'al-haoi-rum,
Di-i'il-haal-dil-il-i'il, dor-ri-ho' ol-hann-dan.

We are in luck, we shall have drink,
let not the cup be scrimped to us;
there is plenty in the bottles,
nor are the means awanting;
we are better of it at the start,
to stimulate our discourse;
were we to have all kinds of drink,
our favourite is brandy.
Di-haal-lum, di-haal-lum, &c.

This is the spring of jollity,
the sweet, luck-bringing fountain;
it has melody and mellowness
to put life into a faint man;
all we desire is good for us—
'tis no head-racking agent;
'tis excellent throat company
for each man that sings a stanza.

Men of cheerful temperament,
whose hearts are not contracted,
are the cronies of the flowing bowl
who sit down to the dram;
they will call for it again
if a drop of it is left;
and when they hear the fiddle,
they will be keen to dance.

When we get all the barrels
that we want, at our disposal,
and the glasses that are empty
are being filled from a decanter,
we should love each friend approved of us
to be conversing with us,
what time the merry glass arrives,
with the sugar-candy flavour.

We run no risk it will not last—
in France there is a vault of it;
nor is there fear of shortage
in the ships that brought it over;
and, as we liked it, we declare
its drawback will not harm us—
that however long we keep at it
our greed for it increases.

Men who are parsimonious,
and will not spend their cash now,
must not be alongside of us,
as kill-joys with their meanness;
they seek to join no company
and no company desires them;
if water does not quench their thirst—
well, they could not get brandy.