Where Lagan stream sings lullaby
There blows a lily fair
The twilight gleam is in her eye
The night is on her hair
And like a love-sick lennan-shee
She has my heart in thrall
Nor life I owe nor liberty
For love is lord of all.
And often when the beetle's horn
Hath lulled the eve to sleep
I steal unto her shieling lorn
And thru the dorring peep.
There on thye cricket's singing stone,
She spares the bogwood fire,
And hums in sad sweet undertone
The songs of heart's desire.
Her welcome, like her love for me,
Is from her heart within.
Her warm kiss is felicity
That knows no taint of sin.
And when I stir my soot to go,
'Tis leaving love and light
To feel the wind of longing blow
From out the dark of night.