| Where Lagan stream sings lullaby
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| There blows a lily fair
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| The twilight gleam is in her eye
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| The night is on her hair
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| And like a love-sick lennan-shee
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| She has my heart in thrall
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| Nor life I owe nor liberty
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| With love is lord of all.
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| And sometimes when the beetle’s horn
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| Hath lulled the eve to sleep
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| I steal unto her shieling lorn
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| And thru the dooring peep.
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| There on the cricket’s singing stone,
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| She stirs the bogwood fire,
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| And hums in sad sweet undertones
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| The song of heart’s desire
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| The song of heart’s desire. |