My Lagan Love

Where Lagan stream sings lullaby

There blows a lily fiar;

The twilight gleam is in her eye,

The night is on her hair.

And, like a love-sick lenanshee,

She hath my heart in 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.