Here's to you and yours and to mine and ours,
And if mine and ours ever come across you and yours,
I hope you and yours will do as much for mine and ors,
As mine and ours have done for you and yours!

May the lord keep you in his hand,
And never hold you too tight.

May there be a fox on your fishing hook,
A hare on your bait,
And may you kill no fish,
Until St Brigid's day.

May the face of every good news,
And the back of every bad news,
Be towards us.

May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind always be at your back,
The sun shine warm upon your face,
The rain fall soft upon your fields,
And until we meet again,
May god hold you in the hollow of his hand.

The health of all Ireland and of County Mayo,
And when that much id dead may we still be on the go,
From the County of Meath the health of the hag,
Not of her but her drink is the reason we brag,
Your health one and all from one wall to the other,
And you outside there speak up brother.

In the New Year may your right hand always,
Be stretched out in friendship,
And never in want.

The health of the salmon and of the trout,
That swims back and forward near the bull's mouth,
Don't ask for saucepan, jug or mug,
Down the hatch drink it up.

May I see you grey,
A and combing your grand-childrens hair.

May peace and plenty,
Be the first to lift the latch of your door,
And happiness guided to your home,
By the candle of Christmas.

St. Patrick was a gentleman,
Who through strategy and stealth,
Drove all the snakes from Ireland,
Here's toasting to his health,
But not too many toastings,
Lest you lose yourself and then,
Forget the good St Patrick,
And see all those snakes again.

May there be a generation of children,
On the children of your children.

Rye bread will do you good,
Barley bread will do you no harm,
Weaten bread will sweeten your blood,
Oaten bread will strengthen your arm.

Health and long life to you,
The woman of your choice to you,
A child every year to you,
Land without rent to you,
And may you die in Ireland.

May the grass grow long on the road to hell,
For the want of use.

May you live to be a hundred years,
With one year extra to repent.

May you be poor in misfortune,
Rich in blessings,
Slow to make enemies,
Quick to make friends,
Be rich or poor, quick or slow,
May you know nothing but happiness,
From this day forward.

May the roof above you never fall in,
And may we friends gathered below,
Never fall out.

May the strength of three,
Be in your journey

May you have food and raiment,
A soft pillow for your head,
May you be forty years in heaven,
Before the devil knows you're dead!

May you have warm words on a cold evening.
A full moon on a dark night,
And the road downhill all the way to your door.

Here's that we may always have,
A clean shirt,
A clean conscience,
And a guinea in our pocket.

Here's health and prosperity,
To you and all your posterity,
And them that doesn't drink with sincerity,
That they may be dammed for all eternity.

Here's a health to your enemies' enemies.

The health of the salmon to you,
A long life,
A full heart,
And a wet mouth.

The little gentleman in black velvet.