In honor of the occasion, I wish to resurrect the following ancient Druidic toast, for all to honor our Mistress of the Songbook:

Here's to the Gaelic Texan lass

 And here's to the men who love her!

 Who send in rhymes made late at night

 And wake up thinking of her!

 Who hang upon each merry post

 That falleth from her lips

 And wander 'round like mournful ghosts

 Obsessed with her cow chips

 Ten pints per man of Irn Bru

 To ease a tortured brain

 And here's to the lass for whom we bear

 Our grim creative pains

 So say farewell to British Nell

 Take leave of your Russian Tanya

 Lift a toast to the Muse who drives us mad,

 Our Gaelic goddess, Áine!