| lyric | 1. Where Lagan stream sings lullabye,
there blows a lily fair,
thetwilight gleam is in her eye,
the night is on her hair,
and like a lovesick lenanshee,
she hath my heart in thrall;
Nor life I owe, nor liberty,
for love is lord of all.
2. And often when the beetle’s horn
Hath lulled her eye to sleep,
I steal unto her shieling lorn
And thro’ the dooring peep;
There on the cricket’s singing stone
She stirs the bog—wood fire,
And hums in sad, sweet undertone
The song of heart’s desire.
3. Her welcome like her love for me
Is from the heart within.
Her warm kiss is felicity
That knows no taint or sin.
When she was only fairy small,
Her gentle mother died.
But true love keeps her memory warm
By Lagan’s silver side. |