Where Lagan stream sings lullaby There grows a fairy fair The twilight gleam is in her eye The night is on her hair And like a love-sick leannan-sidhe 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 dooring peep. There on the cricket's singing stone, Beyond my reach she stirs the fire, And hums in sad sweet undertone The songs of heart's desire. If there was one wish she'd grant me I'd show her what I'm dreaming of In her world I would want to be I dare not ask her for her love For she's immortal, I must go, 'Tis leaving Love and light To feel the wind of longing blow From out the dark of night. |
*