May the grass grow long on the road to hell for want of use.
Catalog
Irisn Blessing
May you die in bed at ninety-five years, shot by a jealous husband.
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.
May the Lord keep you in His hand and never close His fist too tight.
May your neighbors respect you, Troubles neglect you, The angels protect you, And Heaven accept you.
Bless your little Irish heart and every other Irish part.
As you slide down the banisters of life may the splinters never point the wrong way.
May the saddest day of the future be no worse than the happiest day of your past.
May you be half an hour in Heaven before the Devil knows you’re dead.
May the sun shine, all day long, everything go right, and nothing wrong. May those you love bring love back to you, and may all the wishes you wish come true.
May good luck be your friend In whatever you do. And may trouble be always A stranger to you.
May Irish angels rest their wings right beside your door.
Here’s health and prosperity, To you and all your posterity, And them that doesn’t drink with sincerity, That they be damned for all eternity.
May the luck of the Irish Lead to happiest heights And the highway you travel Be lined with green lights.
These things, I warmly wish for you: Someone to love, Some work to do, A bit of o’ sun, A bit o’ cheer, And a guardian angel always near.