Page:Irish Melodies.djvu/54

32 in death I shall calm recline,
 * O bear my heart to my mistress dear;

Tell her, it liv'd upon smiles and wine
 * Of the brightest hue, while it lingered here;

Bid her not shed one tear of sorrow
 * To sully a heart so brilliant and light;

But balmy drops of the red grape borrow,
 * To bathe the relic from morn till night.

When the light of my song is o'er,
 * Then take my harp to your ancient hall;

Hang it up at that friendly door,
 * Where weary travellers love to call*.

Then if some bard, who roams forsaken,
 * Revive its soft note in passing along,

Oh! let one thought of its master waken
 * Your warmest smile for the child of song.