Where lagan streams
Sing lullabies through clouds of lilies fair
The half-light gleam is in his eyes
The night is on his hair
Like a love-sick lenashee
He has my heart to call
No life have I no liberty
For his love is lord of all
And often when the late birdsong
Has lulled all the world to sleep
I will steal into my lover's arms
Our secrets there to keep
And on the cricket's singing stone
He'll make a dry wood fire
And tell me then sweet undertones
The song of my heart's desire

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