IRISH MELODIES.
33
III.
Keep this cup, which is now o'erflowing,
To grace your revel, when I'm at rest;
Never, oh! never its halm bestowing
On lips, that beauty hath seldom blest!
But when some warm devoted lover
To her he adores shall bathe its brim,
Then, then my spirit around shall hover,
And hallow each drop that foams for him.
D
