my lagan love

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 lenanshee

she hath my heart to thrall: nor life i owe

nor liberty

for love is lord of all

and often when the beetles horn

hath lulled the eve to sleep

i steal unto her shieling lorn

and thro' the dooring peep. there on the cricket's singing stone

she spares the bog wood fire. and hums in sad sweet undertone

the song of heart's desire.