This text comes from Irish Melodies, a historical songbook transcribed on Wikisource and reproduced from the pinned revision linked below.
When 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.
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.