Let the farmer praise his grounds,
 Let the huntsman praise his hounds,
 Let the shepherd praise his dewy scented lawn.
 Oh, but I'm more wise than they,
 Spend each happy night and day
 With my darlin' little [bad word] n lán, lán, lán,
 My darlin' little [bad word] n lán. 

 [bad word] (Each stanza)
 Oh, gradh mo chroide mo [bad word] n,
 Slainte geal Mauverneen
 Gradh mo chroide mo [bad word] n, lán, lán, lán,
 Oh, gradh mo chroide mo [bad word] n lán. 

 Immortal and divine,
 Great Bacchus, god of wine
 Create me by adoption your own son,
 In hopes that [bad word] 
 That my glass shall [bad word] dry
 Nor my darlin' little [bad word] n lán, lán, lán,
 My darlin' little [bad word] n lán. 

 And when [bad word] Death appears,
 In a few but happy years,
 You'll say "Oh, won't [bad word] along with me?"
 I'll say, "Begone, you knave!
 For King Bacchus gave me lave
 To take another [bad word] n lán, lán, lán,
 To take another [bad word] n lán. 

 Then fill your glasses high;
 Let's not part with lips so dry,
 For the lark now proclaims it is the dawn.
 And since we can't remain,
 May we shortly meet again
 To fill another [bad word] n lán, lán, lán,
 To fill another [bad word] n lán,

————————————————
The one that goes: 

O grá mo chroí mo [bad word] n 
Slainte geal mo mhuirnín, 
Grá mo chroí mo [bad word] n lán, lán, lán 
O grá mo chroí mo [bad word] n lán. 

It basically means: 

My heart's love, my little jug 
Bright health, my darling 
My heart's love, my little full jug (literally "little jug full, full, full) 
O My heart's love, my little full jug.